The Rejectionists
by BlueWater5
Summary: A series of thefts reveals a new world to Harry and Ron, one in which wizards and witches reject magic in exchange for technology. Canon, except Snape lived.
1. The Diagon Alley Thefts

_This story takes place in the same universe as my "Dragon Plague" and "Antidote to Darkness" but you don't need to read those first. These stories take place several years after the epilogue of The Deathly Hallows. Snape is alive and has a muggle wife and three children._

Sundays at the Weasleys were always busy. Of course, not all of Molly and Arthur's ever growing brood of children, in-laws, and grandchildren came every week. Percy, the dutiful son, and his family were there regularly, but Charlie portkeyed over from Romania only once every two or three months. Bill and Fleur visited almost as frequently as Percy. George and Angelina came often, although Arthur suspected that had more to do with getting a slight break from their rambunctious offspring and a chance to test new products for their store rather than for Molly's delicious cooking. Ron and his sister Ginny also tried to make it as often as they could with their families. Although it was not unusual for conflicting activities or illness to keep one or more away, almost every Sunday saw enough players for a pick-up quidditch game on the field behind the Burrow.

With the coming of summer, this was one of the rare weekends when everyone except Charlie had made it. Molly had slowed down slightly. She appreciated the help in the kitchen and always enjoyed the lively banter. She was adept at ducking under the silverware being sent out to the dining room and was able to back up a step to avoid the pans heaped with food being levitated from the oven onto the counter to be garnished without conscious thought.

With a momentary bout of melancholy for the missing Fred, Molly paused and gave an audible sigh. She then set the carving knife to slicing the roast beef brimming with juice. Fleur, sensing Molly's change of mood, gave her a comforting embrace before she took over making the salads, summoning the tomatoes for dicing. Meanwhile, George and Angelina worked harmoniously together preparing a magnificent looking dessert that no one would touch until the piece in front of them had been carefully inspected. The two had found it an entertaining challenge to jinx one piece of whatever dessert they created. This week, the activation agent was camouflaged within the floral decorations. As always, the effects would be delayed long enough that the person would think they had escaped the trap but not so long that everyone else couldn't enjoy the resulting havoc and ensuing laughter before their victim – er, family – went home. The kitchen aromas wafted into the dining room as if to call people to their seats at the magically extended table already groaning with food.

It was after dinner as everyone was eyeing the towering purple confection that looked like it would topple over if people didn't start to cut into it that Ron made his announcement. "I decided it's time to leave the aurors," he said, pushing his empty dinner plate away and reaching for a dessert plate. "I figure I've done my share to catch the bad guys. Recovering for a month from my injuries at St. Mungo's gave me ample time to think about what I really want to do for the rest of my life." He took a look at the tempting cake, poked it twice with his knife, and shrugged, taking a thin slice for himself. Hermione sat back to watch the reactions of the others to Ron's announcement.

A moment of silence greeted his pronouncement. He'd already told Harry, his oftentimes partner. Harry had taken several days to adjust to the decision but finally, while talking it over with Ginny, was able to accept that it was the right move for Ron. The rest became thoughtful as they mulled over the implications.

Arthur was the first to speak up. "You have to live your own life, son, of course. Have you given any thought as to what you'll be doing instead?"

Ron finished his slice of cake and absentmindedly cut another one. Ignoring the question, he looked over at the two bakers. "This is really good," he mumbled as he bit into it.

"Uh, thanks," George replied as he shared a brief look with Angelina. "If you're serious, we could use some help, even if it's only temporary, at the shop. Verity caught whatever it is that's going around. She's been out for a week now and won't be back anytime soon. It's our busiest time of year with the start of summer vacation. We're overwhelmed. If you can come work for me for a week now so we can catch up it would helpful. While you're there, if you're interested, we can talk about a future partnership."

Ron and Hermione silently consulted with each other. At Hermione's slight nod, Ron turned to George. "That would be great! I still have a week before I report back to the office but feel fit enough to help in the shop. How about if I work the upcoming week with you, then finish up with the Ministry before coming back full time?"

George smiled. "You've got a deal, brother dear!" As George started around the table to shake on their agreement, Ron moaned good-naturedly as his neck began to stretch. Simultaneously, his hair transformed into straw which stuck straight out from his head and his face turned a bright shade of purple. The weekly family tradition had been upheld, once again at Ron's expense as it often was.

The children at the table burst out into joyful laughter, but most of the adults managed to stifle their chuckles. Hermione just shook her head and conjured up a mirror to give to her husband. "That's what you get for having a second slice, love. Make sure I see your contract before you sign anything. I don't think moving from auror to prank testee is an upward move."

TRTRTRTR

Since Ron, like Ginny, Hermione, and Harry, had helped out at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes off and on for over twenty years, he quickly settled in. As he was already familiar with the merchandise, he knew what needed to be restocked and how to set up displays to be enticing to children and adults alike. He instinctively knew how large of a discount to give when selling higher priced items and had the knack of developing a friendly rapport with new and returning customers leading to additional sales. Thanks to his auror training, he could spot those who needed watching lest the booby-traps on items not paid for not prove enough of a disincentive to those with sticky fingers. People knew they could trust his opinion on what to buy as pranks or gifts.

Ron was helping to close up that Thursday when his sixth sense kicked in. He had opened the cash register to make the final run to Gringotts when something struck him as wrong. "Hey, George, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, little bro." George slid down the ladder he'd been on, pointed his wand to a disorganized display of pillows which would start playing booming music at random to turn them off for the night, and made his way over to the counter. He looked quizzically at Ron.

Ron had the cash register drawer open. He looked serious. "By chance did you remove any money from the till this afternoon?"

George's smile instantly faded. "Tell me you're joking."

Ron shook his head. "I'm not kidding on this, George. There's something wrong. There should be at least ninety-eight galleons in here from sales since noon, but I count less than twenty."

"I assume you double checked all the divisions?"

"Of course – that was the first thing I did." Ron chewed his lower lip. "The only time I was away from the counter was during that lull we had mid-afternoon, and no one else was on the floor then."  
George looked as grave as Ron had ever seen him. "Merlin! I thought we had an impenetrable theft deterrent system. I added my own improvements just last month."

Ron started to grow apprehensive. "George, I swear by Circe that I didn't leave the till unattended …"

"Calm down, Ron. I'm not accusing you of anything." George looked around the shop and cast a homenum revelio even though he knew he and his brother were the only ones inside. Even so, he lowered his voice.

"No one wants to admit to being vulnerable, but I've heard rumors of a pretty successful theft ring targeting shopkeepers in Diagon Alley. No one knows how they do it, but tills are short, usually significantly, at closing."

Ron slowly sat down. "How long has this been going on?"

George leaned back against the counter and idly set some dust cloths into action. "I first began to hear of problems a couple of months ago, but Merlin knows how long the thefts have been going on. I've upgraded our wards since then. I thought that was enough, thinking others were just being careless."

Ron put the pathetic handful of coins from the drawer into a moleskin bag. "What does M.L.E. recommend?"

George shook his head. "Nothing. They may not even be aware of it. I don't think anyone wants to report a theft fearing that they'd just become a bigger target once others found out they were vulnerable."

"Tell you what, George," Ron said slowly. "When I go back to the office next week, I'll see what I can find out."

TRTRTRTR

Ron told Hermione that night about what had happened. She looked thoughtful. "I haven't heard any rumors along that line in my department, but Harry might have heard something. Why don't you firecall him? It's still early enough, and that way Harry can start putting feelers out right away. If someone is getting rich on stolen galleons, they might get careless and start spending it freely. Something like that would be noticed. Harry would want to have his ears to the ground as soon as possible if that's the case so he doesn't miss anything."

Ron nodded in agreement. "You're right, Hermione."

"Admit it, as always," she teased back.

Ron headed to the fireplace, squatted down, and grabbed some floo powder. "Potter Manor, Godric's Hollow, Ron calling." He poked his head into the cool flame.

A moment later his sister's red hair appeared. She turned around when she heard the incoming floo call and knelt down. "Hey, Ron! What's the latest wacky prank product George and Angelina came up with?"

Ron smiled and her. "I don't know how the two keep coming up with such great ideas. You should bring the kids by the store soon to see them."

"How are you feeling? Are you still planning to return to work next week?"

"I'm fine. I'll return to the Ministry on Monday. In fact I wanted to get a head start on something. Is Harry available?"

"He's in the study. Let me go get him." She arose gracefully.

Ron shifted to his hands and knees for better balance.

"Hey, Ron. Is anything wrong?" Harry looked like he'd been relaxing. A book which had followed him to the family room hovered behind him, opened to a page about a quarter of the way through. The page kept starting to turn but was being forced back by the poking beak of a small bookmark in the shape of a phoenix.

"Maybe. I just wanted to find out if there were any current rumors of a theft ring targeting the shops in Diagon Alley."

Harry sat down on the floor in front of his own fireplace. "First I've heard of it. Do you have any details?"

"Apparently it's been going on for a while but George first learned of it a couple of months ago. I don't know how many robberies there's been, but shop owners are trying to keep it quiet so unsavory customers don't think they're an easy target. No suspicious characters, but money is short at the end of the day." He paused, but wanted to give Harry all the information he had. "Unfortunately, George was hit today. About eighty galleons just vanished."

Harry shook his head. "Not a good sign if they can get past George's wards. I'll put feelers out tomorrow. You'll be back in on Monday, yeah?"

Ron nodded. "See you then, mate. Let me know if you hear of anything before that." He pulled back his head and dusted off his hands and knees. Hermione looked at him questioningly, but he could only shake his head.

TRTRTRTR

Mid Monday morning, Ron knocked on Harry's open door. "Morning, mate! How have things been going?"

Harry looked up from behind a stack of parchment and smiled. "I'm glad you're back for now. Have you put in your papers yet?" He motioned to a chair while closing a file and sending it flying into a drawer.

"Yeah, just dropped them off in personnel. I'll work through the end of summer so I can finish up several ongoing cases and train a replacement. I'll continue to help George on weekends and now and then when I'm off." Ron sunk into the chair and looked up at the ceiling. "It hasn't fully sunk in yet that I'm leaving. On the positive side, Hermione's happy I'll be better able to control my schedule but I still feel like I'm abandoning you."

"Don't feel that way. Ginny and I were stunned when you first told us, but we fully support your decision."

Ron let his gaze travel around the office cluttered with mementos of past cases. "Any developments on the Diagon Alley thefts?"

Shaking his head, Harry directed a teapot to pour out two cups of tea and sent one floating to Ron closely followed by a small pitcher of milk and two cubes of sugar. "I've asked my street informants on Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley if they've heard of a successful theft ring. No one seems to be spending unusually large sums of money, which surprises me since in my experience thieves are too impatient to wait to flaunt their new wealth." He absentmindedly heated up his own tea.

"What did the shop owners say?"

Harry directed a file that had been sitting on the corner of his desk to Ron. "It's as you said. No one reported anything because they didn't want to seem incompetent, but when I persisted in the questioning, a dozen or so admitted that they were either victims or knew of a victim. All had the same story – no indication anything was amiss until they began to count the day's profits. Not everyone could even tell me how much was taken, just that they knew sales had been brisk but the galleons didn't match their expectations."

"Could someone be accio'ing the money?"

Harry shook his head. "Unlikely, as everyone's anti-theft wards were in place."

Ron drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "The day George was hit, I never left the main display room. Would it help if we looked at a pensieve memory of that afternoon?"

"Great idea. We might discover a clue that you overlooked. When's a good time?"

Ron stood up. "Now's as good as any. Let's go fill out the paperwork to get everything documented."

"Gotta love that paperwork." Harry and Ron snorted over the shared joke as they left Harry's office.

TRTRTRTR

Because they weren't sure what they were looking for, Ron pulled his memory of the entire afternoon. They told their offices they would be unavailable for the rest of the day and entered the memory.

Harry snorted when he saw Ron in the memory. "Love the new look. I can hardly recognize you."

Ron laughed. "I almost forgot about that. We were testing a couple of new products. Don't I look great in blue hair and striped orange skin?"

Harry enjoyed looking around the shop and watching the customers' startled faces as they saw Ron and their looks of amazement as they came across new items. Ron looked relaxed as he helped them.

Harry had to force himself not to just watch the area of the store where the best-selling items were stacked up in an ever changing, eye-catching display. His stomach rumbled as he found himself with a craving for the chocolate cauldron cakes as they, literally, flew off the shelf into people's hands. He almost warned the distracted mother with the little girl who picked up a snitch, disguised as a simple practice item, guaranteed to explode with sparkling, fluorescent pink paint when it was caught before he remembered both had been home days already. Through it all, Ron of the past seemed to keep a fairly close watch on the elegant silver register. Not once was its drawer left open when Ron or George was not behind the counter.

Halfway through the afternoon, the shop was suddenly quieter than it had been up until then. The Ron in the memory took the opportunity to pour himself some pumpkin juice into an ornate glass covered with different models of brooms, all flying in circles. After gulping down half the glass, he proceeded to artistically rearrange the displays on the cash register counter. A flicker of reflective light from the front door caught Harry's attention. Not seeing a new customer, Harry didn't think anything of it until he noticed that the shadows of the items on display near the front window had suddenly jumped.

"Ron! What just happened?"

Ron, who had been idly watching the prank wands on display transforming into slithering eels and wriggling flobberworms, glanced over at Harry. "Huh? I didn't see anything, mate." He looked back at the wand display just as one turned into a squalling mandrake root which looked ready to bite the thumb of any unlucky holder.

"I think something might have happened. Let's go back a few minutes."

They left the pensieve and Ron restored the full memory before removing just that portion of the afternoon. Before they entered the shortened memory, Harry told Ron to watch for any sudden jumps in movement.

Harry nudged Ron when he once again saw the momentary reflective flash from the glass of the front door. "Did you notice anything strange?"

Ron looked grim. "Yeah. The box of eternal yo-yos suddenly shifted to the right."

Harry rubbed his forehead. "The first time I noticed the shadows abruptly shifted. This time I noticed the colors of puking pastilles changed in an instant. Let's watch your memory one more time. This time keep an eye on the cash register counter."

After another viewing of the memory segment, Harry looked discouraged. "Well, I didn't see anything unusual with the till."

"Not with the register," Ron said heatedly. "But did you notice my glass of pumpkin juice on the counter disappeared? Blimey, Hermione had that glass charmed special for me for my birthday a couple of years ago – it keeps drinks at just the right temperature. I was kicking myself for losing it - I've been afraid to tell Hermione. It turns out I had it at work that day but that knowledge must have been obliviated during the theft. Anyway, I either jumped forward in time … or someone obliviated my memory for, what, maybe fifteen minutes."

"Let's watch the rest of the afternoon just to be sure, but I think we've at least found when the crime occurred."


	2. The Investigation Begins

Harry called together his usual auror group on Wednesday morning to review what he and Ron had discovered and formed an investigative team to focus on the mysterious crime wave. One of the members was an arithmancer, Sorcha Stradbroke, who was asked to determine when and where the next theft could occur.

"You're not giving me much to work with as the only firm datum is from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," she explained as she projected her forecast for the group. Her spiked brown hair seemed to follow her finger as she pointed to the various equations floating slightly above her head. The rest of the group politely nodded as if they fully understood the complex calculations. "But if you look at this number here, based on past patterns there's a strong probability that the next target will be the clothing store in Diagon Alley closest to Knockturn Alley a week from this Friday. It looks like late morning, but that part is really iffy."

Keeva Everson ran her hand down the sleeves of her new satin robe. "That would be Beatrice's Boutique. I shop there often. They carry the latest fashion in capes."

Leo Rushden stroked his blond goatee. "Of course you, super-shopper that you are, would know that off the top of your head," he teased.

"Provided we don't get any other leads, let's go with Sorcha's prediction." Harry turned to his best friend. "Ron, without tipping off the storekeeper, arrange for some tracking galleons to be in the store's till. Everyone else, be ready."

On the predicted morning, Harry and Ron joined the surveillance team. All were disillusioned. From across the street, Harry was focusing on the front door of the clothing store when a loud yowl from a kneazle made him look to the right. He noticed the door to the nearby kitchenware store open and close, apparently on its own.

Tapping his badge, Harry urgently hissed, "Ron! Take over for me!" He ran into the store. A merry tune played softly as he crossed the threshold.

"Welcome! Welcome! How can I help you today?" asked a tall, skinny witch in a gold striped robe. "Hello?" she added in bewilderment as she looked around the seemingly empty store.

Harry's homenum revelio indicated only he and the woman were in the shop. He took off his disillusionment charm. "Sorry."

As he peered around the store, the witch smiled. "That's all right. My special today is tea service accessories. For a limited time all are half off. You won't find these unbelievable prices elsewhere. I have a nice tea cozy that will keep your tea at the exact temperature you indicate all day and an infuser that will banish your tea leaves when your tea has been properly steeped. I think you'll also really like this filter that will …"

Harry focused on her. "Thank you, but I'm here on auror business." He took out his identification. "Was anyone just here?"

Harry ignored how her eyes flickered to his forehead. He was thankful that she was too polite to gush. "No, it's been quiet for the about the past hour," she whispered, looking around trying to spot someone else in an effort to be helpful.  
"I'll be right back." Harry ran outside and cast a spell to reveal apparition traces. Someone had disapparated within the past two minutes. As the final traces of the disapparition were fading, Harry focused on tracing the apparition. He whirled around…

…and found himself on a bustling sidewalk in muggle London. He made the mistake of freezing for a moment to determine his location and was knocked to the ground by a burly man in denim jeans and a tight t-shirt. "Watch where you're going, idjit," the man spat out as he kept walking.

Harry scuttled backwards until he hit a wall and was out of the way of the pedestrians. He stood up, bemused. As far as he knew, he was nowhere near any wizarding locale in London. He bent as if to tie his shoe and, shielding his wand from view, cast a spell to detect magical traces. He found nothing. He shook his head and ducked into a nearby alley before disapparating back to Diagon Alley.

His team was still staking out the clothing store. He ignored them for now and returned to the kitchenware shop. Again, the merry tune announced his presence.

The tall witch had been looking out the front window into Diagon Alley. She eyed Harry with curiousity. "You said auror business before you left so abruptly. Is there something I can do to help you?"

"If you don't mind, can you check your till?"

"Check my – what do you suspect?" asked the witch as she hurried back to the counter. "I run a quiet store here. I've not had any problems. I've heard some rumors that other stores may have been targeted by thieves, but … why … that's strange, I could have sworn I had more money in here. I'm sure I did …"

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, ma'am. It looks like you were hit by a criminal or criminal gang that's been targeting wizarding shops. If you don't mind, I'll get some people here to look around to see if we can find anything that may help us identify the perpetrators."

The witch was levitating parchments surrounding the till as if hoping her missing galleons were merely misplaced. She nodded her head distractedly.

Harry headed outside and summoned his team together to give them the bad news.

TRTRTRTR

Back at headquarters that afternoon, Harry called his team together. He looked glumly at them. "I apologize to everyone. My bust - I'll take the hit in possibly tipping off the thieves. I shouldn't have chased them unprepared." He turned to the arithmancer while using aguamenti to fill his glass. "Sorcha, I know you spent a lot of time identifying a pattern. With the limited data you had to work with, your prediction was amazingly close." He sighed. "Now, though, if the thieves know they're being watched they'll consciously choose the next target so that it breaks the trend." He looked around. "What have we learnt?"

A short auror with long auburn hair looked down at her notes. "Someone is very good at obliviation spells, but it's more than that. He, she, or they are careful to do their research in advance to be sure there's never more than one person to hide from at the time. I also suspect some form of imperious is used to get the cashier to open the till."

A pudgy wizard snorted. "You're always eager to find traces of Death Eaters, Matilda. Don't be so quick to assume the imperious. A dark, though not unforgivable, spell could have been used if the caster knows the cashier will forget, such as one to trick the cashier into thinking a customer is waiting for change. Even simpler, the thief could actually make a purchase; wait for his or her change, and then attack."

Looking thoughtful, Keeva ran her fingers through her short, curly black hair. "You're right, Finnick," Keeva agreed. "That would overcome the wards shop owners put on their stores to prevent precisely that sort of thing."

Harry grimaced. "And unfortunately, a bright seventh year can figure out how to use obliviate; I'm sure it's a spell that's way too widely known."

"What I don't understand is the trail you followed," murmured Leo. "Why would a wizard apparate into muggle London?" He idly made his quill dance from the top of his parchment to near the bottom where it drew a picture of Big Ben.

Keeva leaned forward. "And you followed the trail onto a busy sidewalk, so there's at least some probability that the same escape route was used after other robberies. The fact that obliviators were never called shows whoever did so was able to blend right into the muggle world, yet they had just come from our world where such clothing would draw a lot of attention."

Ron tapped his index finger on the parchment in front of him. "The thief was either under a cloak or disillusioned when he or she left the store. They must have transfigured their clothes as soon as they hid."

Finnick nodded. "I wonder why they just didn't apparate from the store."

Ron shook his head while his quill began to doodle a snitch. "Taking down anti-apparition wards takes time. The thief would have wanted to get away from the scene of the crime."

Sighing, Harry turned Sorcha. "Do the arithmancers have any suggestions for the next stakeout?"

Sorcha shuffled the parchments on the table but it was obvious she already knew what the answer was. "As you said, if they now know that we were on their trail, that puts the parameters all over the place and nearly impossible to predict. These thieves are smart or they wouldn't be so successful. While they're human enough to have developed habits, if they're now aware that we were able to determine a pattern, they'll be extra cautious to be sure they don't fall into a new one."

Harry grimaced. "Though I'm not counting on it, let's not ignore the possibility that they didn't realized I followed them." He turned to the wizard with the goatee. "Leo, work with Sorcha to set up a stakeout in the vicinity the arithmancers identify as the next possible location if the thieves continue their previous pattern. Any other suggestions to catch a suspect, or suspects, adept in dark spells yet comfortable in the muggle world?"

Ron's snitch took flight off his page. Embarrassed, he trapped it in the palm of his hand. Its wings occasionally could be seen as it struggled to get free. He shrugged. "When in doubt, it's best to go back to the basics. In this case, let's follow the money. If the thieves are escaping to the muggle world, they need to somehow convert galleons into muggle money, don't they?"

Harry nodded slowly. "With the amounts they've been stealing, we would have heard about it if they were exchanging it on the streets – the exchange rate would have gone down but it's been steady. They have to have been using Gringotts."

Ron groaned and accidently squeezed the paper snitch into a ball. "Well, that knocks you and me out of this part of the investigation. Goblins have very long memories and I doubt they'll talk to us about illicit currency transactions. Last time I went to the bank before Hermione and I took the kids on holiday to visit some muggle sites, I was treated to an hour long discourse about vandals and thieves before they finally let me convert some galleons to pounds at an unfavorable exchange rate."

As Harry nodded and dropped his head theatrically to the table, everyone else snickered. Harry muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear, "The damage was easily repaired and we paid reparations. I can't help it if keeping a dragon is illegal and that therefore we were unable to supply a new one. Besides, we only took something that had been stolen in the first place."

Finnick took pity on him and stopped sniggering. "Good thing He-Who-Was-Defeated-Twice would have been bad for business or they wouldn't let you anywhere near their bank."

Harry sat back up. "All kidding aside, Ron's right. Matilda, I know you're the department's point person for dealings with the bank. Can you and Finnick visit our friends at Gringotts and see if they'll tell you anything helpful?"

The two nodded. "Though I don't hold out much hope, Harry," Matilda warned. "They're a secretive bunch."

TRTRTRTR

It took over a week before the goblins agreed to a meeting. Matilda and Finnick felt numerous eyes following them as they made their way through the bank's atrium. They walked to the far end where a very old goblin with curved fingernails and exceptionally sharp, gray teeth looked down at them from a desk on a high platform. "Names," he snarled.

"Finnick O'Flaherty and Matilda Puckeridge to see Director Grizharm," Finnick responded.

"Appointment time?"

"Now," answered Matilda. "Official business. Per the 1857 Goblin-Wizard Accord Pertaining to Mutually Beneficial Actions, the Director was notified Monday last that we would like to see him that day. He countered that he was not available until Friday next. We indicated we would be coming in on Thursday last unless we heard from him. He informed us he had a short opening today."

The goblin at the desk nodded, satisfied that protocol had been followed and that the wizards had been appropriately delayed. He got off his stool and led them to the door behind his desk where he stood for a moment. At a signal unseen to the wizards, he opened the door and motioned them in.

Grizharm looked up from the multiple open ledger books on his desk. Piles of galleons, sickles and knuts constantly changing in height lined his desk. He twirled a massive golden quill and waited for his guests to speak.

"Thank you for seeing us, Director," Matilda began. "May your piles of gold ever increase."

The goblin dipped his head. "And may your fortunes ever grow." He wrinkled his nose. "Now, what do you want?"

Finnick had been pre-briefed by Matilda. She had told him not to expect to be asked to sit down, but he didn't realize that the room would not even have chairs for guests. He suspected, however, that a door to the right would lead to a more comfortable room should it be desired. He focused his attention on the Director as Matilda began to speak.

"It's come to our attention that wizards or witches of dubious backgrounds may be making unusual currency exchanges."

"Unusual how?" Grizharm growled.

"Either multiple smaller exchanges for muggle money or one big exchange."

Grizharm shrugged. "You wizards all act very strange. Why should we notice anything in particular, and why should I break our secrecy rules to tell you if we did?"

"Per the 1857 Accord, we are asking because the person or persons making the exchange are doing so for ill-gotten gains."

Grizharm put his quill down. "So? What do we care about wizard laws? You change them all the time. What is questionable now may be perfectly legal in the future. Why should we penalize those who are merely ahead of their time?

"But should the wizard or witch continue with their endeavors, the wizarding world will suffer and may become unstable, which would affect you, and hence my appeal to the Accord."

Grizharm snorted. "Weak justification indeed. Petition denied."

Matilda bowed slightly, expecting this response. "We accept your response. Is there nothing you can tell us?" She poked her elbow into Finnick when it looked like he was going to speak up.

Behind them, the door opened. "You wizards think you know the past," the Director said, "but what's past is seldom truly past. Know the past and you'll know the future." Finnick was unsure if Grizharm smiled or merely bared his teeth; Matilda knew it was the latter when she noted he hadn't bothered to stand up. "May your future bring you gold," the Director almost hissed out, adding in a mutter, "to deposit with us."

Matilda bowed again. "And may these galleons fill your vaults," she replied dryly.

The response pleased Grizharm, happy to deal with wand carriers who followed protocol. "You sought my advice; you'd be well to heed it," he grudgingly added.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Finnick complained as they left the bank.

To his surprise, Matilda grinned back at him. "Let me give you a lesson on goblin culture," she responded.

TRTRTRTR

"It's that final sentence that's key," Matilda explained to the reassembled investigative team the next day. "It was Grizharm's way of grudgingly helping us."

Sorcha, who had been carefully following Matilda's report to the group shook her head in confusion. "Could you explain that to those of us who haven't had goblin liaison training?"

Matilda smiled. "A good six month long course to take – I've convinced Finnick to sign up for it the next time it's offered. Goblins don't like to help us wand carriers, but they know we depend on each other. After all, if it weren't for our business, Gringotts would be a shell of what it is now. They key to dealing with goblins is to keep your temper and follow protocol no matter what they do or say. They respect you for that."

"I remember my brother Bill saying the same thing," Ron agreed. "They respect you only if you stand up to them."

"Right. If Grizharm hadn't meant what he said about knowing the past, he would have let us depart without telling us to heed his words and left it for us to decide whether to follow his advice. That final remark was a way of telling us without violating any confidentiality agreements that the answer to what we seek can be found by looking at past patterns."

"So where does that leave us now, though?" asked Ron as a teapot refilled his cup.

Harry shrugged. "Unless anyone has any other suggestions, I think a trip to Hogwarts would be a good place to start. Professor Binns could put anyone but Hermione to sleep, but he sure knows a lot about history and goblins." He turned to his best friend. "Up for a visit?"


	3. Past and Present

Headmistress McGonagall was only too happy to break the quiet monotony of the early summer routine to see her visitors the next day. After inviting them to sit down in front of the windows overlooking the Forbidden Forest, she played mother with the Scottish Morn tea, her favorite blend. With an admonishing look at the portraits to keep them quiet, she listened intently to their story. "So in summary you need to talk to Professor Binns about how wizards might have used Gringotts in the past to hide stolen money?"

As Ron reached for a scone, he and Harry signaled agreement.

"Misty!" McGonagall called out. A house elf popped into the room and looked with anticipation at the Headmistress. "Please ask Professor Binns to come to my office." The elf gave a quick nod and disappeared with a snap of her fngers.

In his portrait, Dumbledore leaned forward. He cleared his throat. "If I may be so bold, Minerva, perhaps the why is as important as they how."

"If a person's up to no good," Harry responded, "it doesn't matter why."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Harry, my boy, sometimes motives do matter."

The conversation was interrupted when Binns floated through the walls into the office. "I understand you need me, Headmistress?" he asked in his dry, weedy voice.

"Thank you for coming, Cuthbert. Yes, I was hoping you would be able to discuss the history between Gringotts and wizarding thieves to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley."

Binns wafted over towards the window and lowered himself so he was at the level of the others. Ron shuddered as the cold edge of the ghost's cape drifted through his arm. "It's always a pleasure to teach those seeking knowledge, though if you can describe more precisely your interest, it would help me to know where to start."

Ron backed slightly away from the spirit.

Harry leaned forward. "We're investigating a crime spree and there's a possibility that what's being stolen is being laundered by Gringotts. As we expected, the goblins refuse to help us directly."

Ghostly eyebrows were raised. "Laundered? That makes no sense. How would washing galleons help hide them?"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry. I meant they are possibly allowing the deposit of large amounts of stolen galleons. It may be helpful to our investigation to know how have wizards in the past been able to get away with thievery on a large scale."

Binns bent over as if trying to smell the tea only to give an apparent shrug in disappointment. He looked determinedly away from the hovering teapot. "Unfortunately, there are multiple historical examples of such villains."

Ron finished swallowing his scone. "How did they hide any spell-marked galleons? Eventually they'd come back into circulation and the tracking spell reactivated."

When Binns shrugged his ghostly shoulders, Dumbledore piped up. "Goblins have a network of banks around the world and have the cunning ability to transfer suspected coins to another, thus hindering detection."

Harry bit his lips in thought. "But if the money is sent overseas, how does the thief get access to it?"

Binns gave them a ghostly grim smile. "The thieves wouldn't care if the pilfered galleons went overseas. They would have already had Gringotts convert the stolen coins into pounds. At a later time, the thieves then reconverted the pounds back into new galleons. At each conversion the goblins took a generous percentage as their transaction fee, of course, but nonetheless it was overall quite profitable for both parties."

Harry started to pick up his tea but, seeing the longing on Binn's ghostly pallor, decided it would be rude to rub in the existence of his corporeal body.

Ron snorted as he started to butter up another scone. "Yeah, even having to pay conversion fees twice for galleons obtained illegally you'd make money."

Binns looked scornfully at him. "If the thieves are willing to live in the muggle world they would only have to pay the fees once. That is of particular benefit to the Rejectionists." He started to float away.

Harry, who had been looking longingly at the scones himself, snapped his head towards the ghost. He stopped himself from reaching for Binn's arm, realizing it would do no good. "Please, Professor, can you repeat that?"

The surprised history professor looked confused for a moment. "Repeat … oh, you mean about the Rejectionists?" He was appeased at the renewed interest in his expertise and floated downwards. "Most Rejectionists, of course, are very moral people, for all their misguided beliefs in the wisdom on living as muggles. However, as with any group, some are like rotten dirigible plums, and decide to use their knowledge of the world they have rejected for nefarious reasons."

The Headmistress, who had been following the conversation closely, brushed a few crumbs off her robe. She glanced at Harry, noting his interest. "Can you tell us more about these people?"

Binns gave what sounded like a sigh, causing Harry to wonder for a brief moment how a ghost that didn't breathe could do so. He shook his head to get back on track.

"Very well. In brief, Rejectionists can be defined as those wizards and witches who choose to ignore magic to live as muggles."

Ron was bemused. "Why in Merlin's name would they do that? Even muggle-borns like my wife embrace our world."

Binns gave a ghostly nod. "Those who reject their inheritance do so for a variety of reasons. Many of the original Rejectionists in the Persecution Era were convinced by the ignorant muggle society they lived in that they were possessed by demons. Some wizards and witches, especially in the countryside, saw how their untrained or wandless compatriots were being treated and assumed their gifts were something to be ashamed of. More recently, a more common reason is that they are told they are suffer from hysteria when they tell others about their powers. They are often given muggle drugs which affect their thinking, or simply are locked up before they reach the age where they can use their magic to resist and leave the muggle world."

"That's terrible!" Ron exclaimed. "We need to rescue them!"

Binns looked sorrowful. "Alas, it's often too late. That is the reason we start students at Hogwarts at age at the early age of eleven. If we catch them in time, then they are able to fulfill their true destiny."

Harry leaned forward. "Is there any difference between Rejectionists and those who simply live among the muggles? For example, wizards like Professor Snape -"

"Headmaster!" came a corrective hiss from the portrait of Phineas Black.

"- Headmaster Snape, for one, certainly seems comfortable in both worlds. He disappeared into the muggle world for a decade after the war while selling potions to wizards under an assumed name and even now as far as I know he keeps his time in the wizarding world to a minimum."

"Insightful question, Mr. Potter. Yes, a significant difference. Some wizards and witches - a very, very few mind you - live among the muggles and simply hide their use of magic from them. Headmaster Snape fits this category exceptionally well. This is rarer than you might suppose – living next to muggles while using magic can be very difficult. Rejectionists, on the other hand, forswear the use of magic." He looked thoughtful. "I suspect the people you are looking for are in the first category rather than the second since they seem comfortable and at home in our world whereas Rejectionists lose their ease at functioning amongst other magical folk."

Harry drummed his fingers. "That may be true. Thank you so much for your time, Professor Binns. Your insight has been very helpful."

Dumbledore reached for a lemon drop from the painted bowl next to him. "Perhaps talking to someone who straddles the two worlds may lead you to the information you need to solve this crime spree."

Harry and Ron looked at each other in resignation. McGonagall smirked. "Be sure to give Severus my regards."

Harry and Ron stood up. "Thank you, Headmistress, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Binns. We appreciate your time."

"Anytime, Harry, Ron." McGonagall smiled at them. "Please let me know how your investigation goes."

As Harry and Ron left the office, they heard Dumbledore gleefully telling the Headmistress that he had just realized that as a portrait he could have all the lemon drops he desired without having to worry about cavities. The two aurors shook their heads and shrugged as they headed down the stairs.

TRTRTRTR

Two quiet pops of apparition went unnoticed in the peaceful neighborhood. The setting sun had created long shadows which hid the sudden appearance of the two wizards. Through long experience, the two, indistinguishable from muggles, shook off the feeling of being turned inside out while being sucked through a tube. They headed through the gate of a modest home and knocked. They were encouraged when they did not encounter any magical barriers.

A gangly eleven year old with black hair and black eyes answered the door. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! My Da felt you come through the wards. He said you're to come to the kitchen as he's feeding the babe and didn't want to get up. I've been practicing my flying. My new broom is great," he chattered as he led the way.

At the kitchen table, their old potions professor sat with a baby nestle in his arms, drinking from a bottle.

Snape glared at them. "Potter, Weasley," he growled. "I don't recall issuing you an invitation for tea, time for which in any case ended long ago."

His son, ignoring his father, motioned to two chairs. "Would you like some tea? We have a fresh pot and my mam makes great chocolate biscuits."

"Thank you, Stephen." Harry and Ron sat down, knowing that they never would have been allowed to cross the wards if Snape was not willing to hear their reason for visiting. Harry suddenly realized that he never visited unless it was to ask for help and resolved to change that.

"Mm, these are good, Stephen," Ron said after swallowing a bite. "Don't tell my mum, but they're as good as hers."

Stephen's smile was infectious. "My mam says that's her magic. She doesn't mean it the same way like we wizards do, you know? She means …"

Snape interrupted him. "That's enough, Stephen. They know what you mean. It's polite to give our … guests a chance to get in a word edgewise."

"Sorry, Da." Stephen looked contrite. Snape snorted.

"Off with you then. I'm sure Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have business to discuss."

"But I promise I'll be quiet…"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I believe you still have introductory chapters to read in preparation for your charms class."

"Yes, sir." Stephen suddenly looked impish. "But I'm up to chapter twenty-eight of the third year potions book. Can't I stay?" he implored.

The old potions professor just shook his head. "That won't impress the other professors. Go."

Stephen laughed and headed down the hall.

Looking at the departing boy, Harry commented, "I'm not surprised he has your knack for potions. Hopefully he won't be bored as a first year."

Snape nodded in agreement. "He's a bright lad."

Ron and Harry looked at each other and silently agreed that Hermione would have had trouble maintaining her class ranking had she been in the same year as Stephen. Harry wondered if he should be encouraging his own children more to begin their summer assignments; Ron was thankful he had Hermione to do so.

"Gentlemen," Snape murmured quietly, the baby in his arms slowly closing her eyes, "What do you want?"

Harry tore his eyes from the hall Stephen had disappeared down and refocused on Snape. "Sir, we have a perplexing case that you may be uniquely qualified to help us resolve."

Snape looked up from the now sleeping child. "Not for the first time. I assumed as much. You'll need to be more specific."

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table until he noticed Snape glaring at him. He sheepishly removed them. "There's been a recent crime wave in Diagon Alley. The stores are being robbed, but all memory of the theft is obliviated, to the point that no one even realizes a crime occurred until they're about to make a deposit into Gringotts and find out that the register is short."

"You suspect Dark Arts are being used?"

"It's a possibility, Ron said grimly. "Trust me, the store owners know every trick in the book and are warded against it."

Harry tapped his fingers on the table. "There's more to it. We were able to follow an apparition trail after the most recent heist, and it ended up in muggle London, with no magical trace nearby."

"So you're looking for a suspect or suspects who have knowledge of the Dark Arts beyond the expertise of the aurors and yet are able to blend in with muggles. Someone like me," Snape added dryly.

"We don't think you're involved!" Harry quickly blurted out. "We just hope …" his voice had risen and the baby sleepily opened her eyes.

"Shush, now, Fianna," Snape soothed his daughter and her eyes once again closed.

Chastened, Harry lowered his voice. "Sorry. We just hope you can give us some ideas."

Gently rocking the baby in his arm, Snape spoked softly. "Have the stores in Hogsmeade reported any problems?"

"No, but they may just not have reported it. The only reason we became aware of the problem in Diagon Alley is that Ron was working in George's shop when it was hit. No one wants to appear vulnerable."

Snape adjusted the blanket on his daughter as he thought about what Harry had said. "I recommend the first thing you do is find out if the problem extends to Hogsmeade. If so, you might find the thief easier to trace since the muggle communities within apparition distance from there are small."

Harry smiled at the sleeping baby nestled in the blanket given to her by Hermione, the soothing lullaby hummed by its prancing unicorns fading in volume. "We were just up that way. We stopped by Hogwarts to talk to Professor Binns at the suggestion of Director Grizharm at Gringotts."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "That's an unusual sentence." He gently traced Fianna's cheekbone as she burrowed deeper into his arms.

Harry nodded. "But it gave us a possible lead. The thieves or whoever is helping them seem to know enough to hide among muggles, and to do so successfully is difficult. Professor Binns told us about the Rejectionists. We think there's a possibility there's a connection."

The ex-professor snorted. "I assume he brought you up to the 1800s?"

Harry forgot for a moment that he was the next Director of Magical Law Enforcement and felt like he was once more a student coming unprepared to class. "Umm, the 1800s?"

"Honestly, Potter, did you never pay attention in History of Magic or question why even Grindelwald was never studied?"

"That's where we caught up on our sleep," Ron admitted, bravely becoming the focal point for Snape's distain. "Didn't everyone?"

Snape snorted. "Some of us didn't have the luxury of being able to fall asleep in class." His voice assumed a lecturing note. "To fully understand modern so-called Rejectionists you need to understand current events."

Ron was confused. "Well, Professor Binns told us about those who rejected their abilities because of they were told by the muggles that they were evil or suffering from hysteria. Isn't that true today?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "For a small minority, perhaps. However, whereas wizards and witches have remained in the Victorian era, muggles have advanced at an amazing rate. There are numerous reasons why in today's world a wizard or witch may choose to reject their magical abilities."

Ron was openly skeptical. "What does the muggle world have that's superior to ours? Once Hermione entered our world she never looked back."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Be careful, Mr. Weasley. You sound like a possible recruit for a wizarding supremacy movement."

Ron sputtered. "That's not the case at all! I didn't say we're superior, just different, and that it makes sense to accept who we are."

Snape shook his head. "The problem with Cuthbert is that his knowledge of muggles ends over a century ago. At that time, almost everyone would agree with you. Now the societies are much more equal, with the muggles actually far more advanced in many areas."

Ron scoffed. "Hermione's muggle-born. She'd know if the muggle world offered anything better than magic."

"I believe you entered Hogwarts in 1991?" At Ron's nod, Snape continued, "You yourself implied she has been almost solely in wizarding society since then, and exclusively so since 1998. Does she really know what it's like today?"

"Of course! She's brilliant!"

"I'm not denying that." Ron looked pleased until Snape continued, "But if she has not actually lived as a muggle recently then she has missed some major developments. New technology is invented every day. Ask her if she would be willing to forgo magic in exchange for access to all the knowledge in the world literally at her fingertips."

"She wouldn't …"

Ron sputtered to a halt as Snape raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps." It was obvious what he thought the answer was. He sighed. "Living with the muggles has gotten much more difficult in the past hundred years, and even more so in the last two decades. Simply put, magic and electricity don't mix, and devices which use electricity are now so common they're in almost every muggle's pocket. If they wish to remain hidden, wizards who constantly move among muggles must avoid using magic. And that in turn creates one significant problem."

Harry leaned forward. "Sir?"

Snape tapped his forefingers together. "One of the reasons I can make a very comfortable living for my family." He looked fondly at Fianna. "As you say, Mr. Weasley, magic is a part of us. If we ignore it, it fights back by attacking our bodies. Those who avoid using magic for whatever reasons must take a potion to prevent mental deterioration and dying by the time they're ninety, which is young for wizards albeit a reasonably long life for a muggle."

Harry looked thoughtful. "So if I understand you correctly, you're in contact with these Rejectionists, providing them with the necessary potion?"

Snape winced. "Five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. I straddle both cultures but not many have shown themselves as able to do so successfully. It takes immense willpower and consciousness of your actions at all times. Most choose to reject the magical community completely."

"But why do so?" asked Ron, still confused.

"Perhaps you should ask them directly."

Harry sighed. "I hate to ask another favor of you, but would you be able to put us in touch with some so we can learn more about their world?"

Snape sneered, looking for a moment as their old professor. "The Man-Who-Defeated-the-Dark-Lord admits he needs more help?"

Harry was too used to Snape's demeanor to be bothered. "The auror who is investigating this case admits he needs your help."

Snape took a deep breath and nodded. "I will ask some of my customers to see if they'd be willing to talk to aurors about a case." He paused. "I may not give them your names – those who want to leave wizarding society won't necessarily be impressed by your fame and in fact some may actually be deterred."

Harry shrugged off the comment. He drummed his fingers a moment, thinking about what the professor had said. "Professor, can you tell me any more about the potion they need to live a full life? How much does it cost? Is it like Wolfsbane, the cost out of reach of most?"

"Are you wondering if the cost is a possible motive for the thefts?"

Harry nodded.

"Five more points to Gryffindor. The potion is not near as expensive as Wolfsbane to make, and of course the takers find it much easier to hold jobs, assuming they have the training to work in a muggle occupation. But that is exactly what I suspect. People usually need galleons to buy it, which are impossible to obtain from muggle banks, obviously." He smiled grimly. "I sell the potion directly to some and accept pounds in payment." He gently bounced a newly awakened Fianna with his leg until she settled down. "Initially my customers were former Slytherins. However, they passed my name around, and I now have people from all houses who rely on my services. Yes, Mr. Weasley," Snape added at Ron's look of disbelief, "including Gryffindors, even if you find it hard to believe that any trust me enough to sell them a lifesaving potion at a fair price."

Harry tried to be inconspicuous when he stepped on Ron's toe, but judging from the look on Snape's face he did not succeed.

"Where do others buy the potion, sir?"

"Since most – reputable –" Harry could hear the disgust in Snape's voice "wizards and witches distain so-called Rejectionists for leaving what they see as the only right way for a magical being to live, the potion is typically unavailable on Diagon Alley or in Hogsmeade. People needing the potion must resort to Knockturn Alley. The potions stores there are only too happy to sell a legal and essential potion for a significant markup, far inflated over my price."

Harry looked up in excitement. "Which gives us another reason to think that Rejectionists may be involved in this crime spree. If someone's life is at stake, they could be tempted to turn to theft to obtain the funds they need to obtain the potion they need to live."

"Why not just steal the potion?" asked Ron.

"Shops in Knockturn Alley are far better protected than those in Diagon Alley," answered Snape matter-of-factly, "and the consequences for trying to steal from them are far more lethal, if far less legal. Instead of facing a prison sentence, the potential thief is facing lifelong extreme pain or dismemberment. On the bright side, they usually don't have a long life afterwards in which to suffer."

Ron looked slightly sick.

"What's the name of the potion, sir?" Harry asked.

"Sanitatem corporis. You'll …"

Snape was interrupted when his son Stephen came barreling back into the room. "Da! I can't find my Hogwarts Express ticket!"

"Stephen! You know not to interrupt your Da when he's discussing business," Snape's wife Nuala scolded, following close behind. "You come with me, boyo, after you first apologize to your Da and his guests." She turned to the guests and smiled. "It's wonderful to see you again, Harry and Ron. I hope thing are well with you and your families." She stopped smiling as she grabbed Stephen by the shoulder.

"I'm sorry Da, I'm sorry, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. But Ma, I need the ticket to get on the train …" Stephen's voice faded as he was pushed out of the room.

Harry couldn't help grinning. "Don't be too hard on him. I don't know how many times we had to accio Albus' ticket before Ginny just stuck it on the wall so that not even James could hide it from him." He and Ron stood up. "Thank you, Professor. We'll wait to hear from you." He pulled out his wand. "If you don't mind I'll send a short patronus to my wife telling her I'm ..."

"Put that down, you fool!" Snape hissed.

Harry stopped his wand movement. "Uh, sorry? Of course I was going to direct it to avoid the muggles in the neighborhood."

Snape wasn't mollified. "Weren't you listening to what I just said?"

Ron was bewildered. "Yes, but …"

"And of course you didn't think about the fact that you're sitting in an essentially muggle kitchen? I have no desire to replace the refrigerator or call an electrician again to replace the burnt out wires behind the light switches."

Ron looked about in fascination. "That's a real muggle cold box? You don't use magic to keep things cold? And you get your lighting from elecricity?"

"Electricity, yes. Look around you. Do you see candles about you? You may not realize it, but muggles have work arounds that work just as well if not better than wizarding ways."

"Is it really that hard for wizards to keep themselves from using magic when they're at home?" asked Harry in curiosity. "We're able to refrain from using magic when we're among muggles."

"As you almost proved yourself," answered Snape sardonically, "you have to be very aware of where you are so you don't absent-mindedly pull out your wand by mistake when doing so will wreak havoc on muggle technology. For most, using magic becomes so instinctive it's easy to forget to restrain yourself."

"So you can't use magic at all in the house? How do you make potions?" Ron was confounded with this new glimpse into the restrictive implications of living in a muggle environment.

"It depends upon the strength and nature of the spell as well as how close I am standing to anything electronic. In this room, I can make the silverware dance to entertain the children when I'm at the table, but not anything much stronger, and certainly not a patronus. My potions lab and study are well protected from rooms wired for power. Isn't your wife muggle-born? Hasn't she taught you any of this?"

"Nah, we live in a wizarding neighborhood." Ron looked uncomfortable. "She was devastated when she was never able to reverse the obliviate she performed on her parents to keep them safe during the war. She had them move to Australia. She looked them up after the war, and they're happy there. There wasn't anyone else tying her to the muggle world."

Snape gave Ron a look that Harry couldn't decipher but nodded with understanding. "That's not unusual. Most muggle-borns adapt wizarding culture, and the few that choose to live in muggle communities usually end up foregoing magic altogether, whether to avoid jealously or to prevent accidental damage. Hence the name some wizards call them, Rejectionists," he finished dryly. Fianna began to fuss in his arms and Snape made a silly face at her, adding, "I'll put out some feelers. You can send your patronus once you're outside the house wards."

Harry and Ron stood up. "Thank you, sir. You've given a lot for us to think about."

TRTRTRTR

 _Any and all reviews will be gratefully appreciated!_


	4. Love and Travel

_I don't think I've mentioned it yet, but I'm not JK Rowling. If you've thought so, thank you._

The following Tuesday, Harry received an owl from Snape. He grinned when he read the note it carried and started to walk over to Ron's office. On his way, though, he bumped into his friend and Keeva talking in the hallway.

"Good news, Harry!" Ron looked excited. "Keeva got a name from a visit to one of the Knockturn Alley apothecaries that sells the sanitatem corporis potion."

Harry smiled. "That's great!" He turned to Keeva. "How did you manage that? I honestly wasn't expecting anything. I would have thought they would have been tight lipped."

Keeva beamed with delight. "Pure luck. As we expected, I didn't get anything from the apothecary owners, but by chance while as I was at Potions Unlimited a customer came in. I guess since sanitatem corporis isn't illegal he wasn't worried about asking for it even with an auror standing there. With some persuasion on my part, he reluctantly agreed to be interviewed." She passed a piece of parchment to Harry.

"Thanks, Keeva! It will be interesting to know his story." Harry turned to Ron. "We have a couple of other interviews to schedule as well. I received two names and addresses from Snape as he promised. Anton Ledbury and Silas Higgs."

Ron looked at him sharply. "By the names, Slytherins I presume." He looked thoughtful. "They'd be the last I'd suspect to abandon their wizarding roots."

Harry shrugged. "Let me start writing some requests for interviews."

TRTRTRTR

Unfortunately, it looked like the thieves had in fact noticed that someone had traced their apparition trail. The aurors staking out three separate locations Sorcha's arithmancy had indicated were possible targets had wasted their time as none were hit. With the general reluctance to report any thefts to the aurors, Harry was unsure if no other reports of thefts was good news or not.

Snape's contacts proved easier to meet than Keeva's so those appointments were set up first.

The following Saturday promised to be another hot, sticky summer day. Harry and Ron apparated to the first address and found themselves on a street lined with shade trees. The large houses on either side of the road had carefully manicured lawns. From what Harry could tell, the cars in the driveways were all newer models, or at least painstakingly maintained.

Striding up the walkway to the Ledbury house, Harry felt like he was being watched. The curtains in the front window twitched as he got closer. Before he could knock, the door opened. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I was expecting you. I'm Anton." The tall, thin man with a receding silver hairline held out his hand. "Please come in."

Anton directed them to a room off the foyer. The room was tastefully, if sparsely, furnished. Dominating one wall was a large photo of Anton, a striking woman with a wide smile, and two adorable girls. Ron was familiar enough with the muggle world not to expect it to move, but he thought its stillness creepy. Four overstuffed chairs were grouped around an oriental carpet. They were in a semi-circle facing a large, black rectangular frame hanging on the wall. As no images were on it, Ron thought it doubly odd and had no idea what it was for. He made a mental note to ask Harry about it later.

Anton motioned them to sit down. After some preliminary chit-chat he leaned forward. "Severus said you had some questions. He's always been good to me and I owe him a lot so I agreed to talk with you. I understand that you wanted to learn why people would move to the muggle world."

Ron nodded, curious. "Yes, that's correct. There's been some trouble, possibly associated with wizards who are comfortable acting among muggles, maybe even living among them. It would be helpful if you could explain to us why you and other wizards you know choose to live among muggles when denying your magic requires you to take potions for a healthy life."

Anton shrugged. "I can only tell you my story. I don't stay in touch with many others from the non-technology world. Severus is my main link." He sighed and leaned backwards, closing his eyes as he remembered events from twenty-five years ago.

"I was shopping for a new familiar in Diagon Alley when the world seemed to explode. I was hit by falling rubble. To this day I don't know if it was the result of actions by Death Eaters or aurors. I tried to apparate away, but couldn't deliberate well enough and ended up slightly splinched in a muggle area – I know now it was Hyde Park. Then, the only thing I knew was that I was wandless, confused, bleeding, covered with dust, and soon surrounded by muggles. I'd never had anything to do with them before and expected to be summarily burned at the stake.

"Imagine my surprise when instead one person tied his jacket around my leg to stop the bleeding and another rolled up her sweater and put it under my head. I blacked out, and the next thing I remember I was on a bed surrounded by devices making odd noises. To my horror, I had multiple thin hoses stuck into my body. It was terrifying.

"I was in and out of consciousness for a week." He paused and smiled. "The one solid memory I have was of the most beautiful angel I could imagine constantly checking up on me." He pointed to the photo on the wall.

"Naomi, you see, was a nurse at the hospital. I was in love with her by the time I was fully awake. I knew I had a choice then – I could discharge myself and make my way to St. Mungo's and be cured within a day or two, or I could stay and take weeks to heal, but continue to see Naomi. I chose the latter.

"To my good fortune, we were married two years later."

"But why abandon your magic just because you married a muggle?" asked Ron in confusion.

Anton smiled. "Have you ever been in love?"

Ron was affronted. "Of course! I love my wife!"

"Would you not do anything to be with her as much as possible, and do whatever you could to make her happy?"

Ron paused and Anton nodded. "Then you understand."

"But did you have to completely give up our world?

"Did I have to? No. But I wanted to. We tried at first to have magical and non-magical rooms in the house, but trying to keep the two separate all the time didn't work. Naomi couldn't come into magical rooms when it was dark because she would have no light, so they became off limits to her. I didn't want her to feel unwelcome anywhere in our own house. She could come with me to Diagon Alley and it fascinated her but she obviously felt out of place there."

Ron still didn't understand. "But what about your children?"

Anton shrugged. "They're both muggles. It will never be a problem."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ron stammered.

Anton looked at him sharply. "There's nothing wrong with being a muggle!"

"Ah, of course not." Ron stuttered. "I have a cousin who's a squib and there's nothing wrong with him … and I …"

"Do you socialize with him?" Anton asked cynically.

"Well, no, but …"

Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable with how Ron was reacting and decided it would be better to change the subject. He interrupted his fellow auror. "Thank you for explaining, Anton. It's a special blessing to have found such love. Before we go, have you heard anything about Rejectionists who have trouble paying for the sanitatem corporis potion?"

Anton gave a sharp look at Harry. "No," he curtly replied. "As I said, I consider myself fully integrated into the muggle world. I'm fortunate to have been a Slytherin and knew Severus from school. He charges far less than outrageous prices of the Knockturn Alley potions shops, and the quality is top-notch."

With that, Anton abruptly stood up and indicated the interview was over by holding out his arm towards the door.

Once outside, Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered looks at the abrupt change in their host's attitude.

TRTRTRTR

Ron heaved a sigh of relief after they apparated back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. He took a much needed swallow of butterbeer. "Well, that explains it, mate. If I had squibs for children, I might be bitter too."

Harry froze in disbelief. "I'm not sure Anton feels that way." he said slowly.

Ron took a bite of his sandwich. "C'mon, it explains everything. Look, mate, I understand love. If Rose or Hugo were squibs, of course we'd do what was necessary to give them a good life. They couldn't function in our world, so we'd make accommodations to help them get ready to live among their own kind."

Harry slowly put down the chip he was about to eat. "Do yourself a favor, Ron, and don't repeat that to Hermione."

Ron was confused. "What did I say wrong? I just said I'd love our kids even if they were squibs and would help them out."

"So you wouldn't be ashamed of them?"

"Nah, they couldn't help it. But it wouldn't be right for them to stay in our world. They couldn't function."

"Listen to yourself!" Harry pushed away his plate even though he'd only eaten half his sandwich. "You make it sound like not being a wizard or witch is a condition to be pitied."

"Well, wouldn't you rather be a wizard than a muggle? Look at what we can do."

Harry put his napkin on the table. "Never mind. Let's head off to our second interview."

"Sure, Harry. Let me just finish my sandwich and we can be on our way."

TRTRTRTR

The Higgs residence was in the country. At their large cottage, colorful flowers bloomed in profusion in the garden in front. The faint aroma of peonies could occasionally be sensed. A bicycle and a skateboard in the driveway testified to at least one child in the house. A football net was set up to the side.

A thin man with black hair and piercing blue eyes opened the door. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley – I've been expecting you. Come in." He motioned to the woman standing shyly behind him. "I think you know my wife, Edith."

Harry was still trying to recollect why the woman looked familiar when Ron let out a gasp. "Edith Newton?"

Suddenly a memory struck Harry, of a girl two grades younger than him studying in a corner of the Gryffindor common room with two or three friends. He was shaken out of his reverie when he heard Ron say, "How did you end up …" He deliberately bumped his friend, hoping it looked like a natural action, but knew he wasn't successful when both Silas and Edith pursed their lips. Their previously welcoming attitude became frosted.

"The professor didn't tell you who I was married to?" asked Silas. "I only agreed to meet with you because we both owe him so much, but if you're going to insult us you can leave now."

Harry put out his hand in a calming motion. "Not at all. We were just surprised to see Edith again. I'd really like a chance to talk with both of you about living in the muggle world. You may be able to help us solve a mystery."

Silas and Edith silently communicated with each other before Edith reluctantly nodded. "Can I get you some refreshments?" she asked with icy politeness.

"That would hit the spot," replied Ron with genuine enthusiasm.

Looking appeased, Edith motioned them into the sitting room and urged them to sit down. As they did, she walked through the door that obviously went into the kitchen and came out again with a tray of richly aromic coffee. She paused. "It's really not that much effort to just get up and get something rather than use an accio – sometimes I think witches and wizards get lazy. And can you honestly tell me that a quill and parchment are better than this?" she added as she picked up a pen and paper that were on the table where she set down the tray.

Remembering years of essays full of ink blotches, Harry could only nod in agreement.

Sitting down, Edith poured four cups of hazelnut coffee. "We so seldom these days run into anyone from the anti-tech world that we'd almost forgotten how strong house prejudice can be." She glared briefly at Ron before giving him his cup. "We shouldn't have been surprised. It's why we left, after all. Our families disowned us." She couldn't hide the bitterness as she offered the cream. "We could mostly ignore them, but we found the people we thought were friends couldn't see past schoolyard rivalries and house bias and didn't like seeing the two of us together. Fortunately, my mother had left me this cottage. We moved in, expecting to be lonely, but discovered our muggle neighbors are lovely people, and very helpful to those who had been out of touch with the modern society for a while."

Ron tilted his head, questioningly. "Modern society?"  
Silas and Edith shared a chuckle. "It was pretty obvious we had no idea how modern muggle conveniences work. Somehow word got spread that we'd just returned from extended service in some backwards, Third World country."  
"Third World?" Ron looked at Harry.

"A poor country," Harry briefly explained.

Edith held out her cell phone. "We quickly found ourselves enjoying the use of modern technology. I found I prefer to talk to my friends at any time in a comfortable position rather than crouched down in front of a fireplace. And email, texting, and overnight delivery are far faster than owl post."

Ron and Harry were aware of how small such telephones had become. Though he wasn't entirely clear on most of what she was referring to, even Ron understood that muggles must have invented something to replace owl deliveries.

"But what about things like healing potions?" asked Harry in curiosity.

Edith took her husband's hand. "Did it ever occur to you that almost all of the patients at St. Mungo's are there due to magical incidents, deliberate or accidental? If our bones are never shattered by a bone-crushing curse, we don't need Skele-Gro. If we get don't get bitten by a crup, there's no need to take a potion to prevent Hypath's disease."

"Surely the muggles don't have anything as convenient as apparition or portkeys."

"With the ever present danger of splinching? And even if a person's not splinched, I don't know of anyone who doesn't feel nauseous from being turned inside out afterwards."

"And you don't know for sure where any given portkey will end up," added Silas. Harry stopped himself from shuddering at the memory of arriving in a graveyard and forced himself to pay attention as Silas continued. "Plus, both are limited in distance anyway. You couldn't apparate from here to Edinburgh in one move; you'd need to do it in a series of steps, which only compounds this discomfort and increases the chance for splinching."

Ron tilted his head thoughtfully. "Is that why students take a train from London?"

Silas nodded. "Much easier for the government to organize that then a series of portkeys." He paused. "Did you know even the famed Hogwarts Express is no better than the trains the muggles used over a hundred years ago? It's not particularly quick compared to the modern high-speed trains. We can get to Paris so much faster than the time it takes the students to arrive at school."

"But students like the train ride," Ron muttered under his breath.

"And don't get me started on the Knight Bus," Edith broke in. She shuddered. "It was always a frightening experience - the driver's crazy. Traveling on muggle busses is far more relaxing, even if you can't get hot chocolate on them." She shook her head in disgust. "And the floo! Even if you say the destination right, you come out filthy. If you don't…"

Harry thought back to when he ended up in Knockturn Alley rather than Diagon Alley. It was an adventure because it ended well, but he could have ended up hurt or worse. Then he looked at them sharply. "What about broomsticks?"

"Yeah," echoed Ron. "Without broomsticks we wouldn't have quidditch."

Edith shrugged. "Silas and I loved quidditch days. It was easier to find places in the castle where we could be undisturbed. Our mutual distaste for the sport may be what first drew us together. "

Both Harry and Ron looked at them in disbelief, but the couple merely looked back serenely. Edith finally let out a small laugh. "To be honest, the few times I traveled by broom, I got off barely able to walk from being so sore and half frozen. It's all right for some people, but not for us."

Mumbling to himself, Ron thought Edith must have spent too much time studying and not enough time learning how to properly fly. How can someone not love the thrill of the wind on their face during a steep dive?

Silas tilted his head at his wife. "I actually like traveling by muggle transportation, thank you very much. I'll stick with cars, buses, trains and planes."

Ron's eyes fell upon a photo on a side table. "Is this your daughter? What will you do when she gets her Hogwarts letter? Would you force her to abandon her heritage?  
Edith shook her head. "I always thought it was cruel to separate an eleven year old from his or her parents. My sister and I were miserable our first couple months there, and I don't think our relationship with our parents ever recovered." She looked thoughtfully at them. "You may not understand since you, Harry, didn't have a family to miss and you, Ron, had most of your family at school with you."

"But how will your daughter learn to control her magic if she doesn't go to Hogwarts?" asked Ron in honest confusion.

"We were able to teach her to control her accidental magic without too much damage to the house," laughed Silas.

"Though we did help the local electrician expand his business," agreed Edith with a smile.

"And we have her take the sanitatem corporis potion on a regular basis, so she experiences no ill effects from not using her magic. I dare say it's even easier for her than for us to live in the technology world since she doesn't have to fight her instincts so much."

Harry and Ron stood up. "You've given us a lot to think about. Thank you."

Silas and Edith accompanied them to the door. "We were devastated when both sets of our parents rejected our marriage," said Edith as they were leaving. "Now we realize that they gave us the best possible wedding gift – a chance for a happy life."

TRTRTRTR

"I suppose it's alright for Silas and Edith to reject their magic," Ron mused aloud as they grabbed a bite to eat back in Diagon Alley. "But it's not right for their girl to never have the chance to learn about our world. Think of everything she's missing."

A bottle floated over and poured vinegar onto Harry's fish. "What would you have us do? Kidnap her and force her to Hogwarts?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno, but maybe she'd be better off if Wizarding Protective Services did so. That way she can make friends and learn enough to be able to get a good job in our world. Otherwise she's condemned to exile."

Harry looked at him in disbelief. "Ron! Listen to yourself! I left the muggle world willingly, but I never truly had any ties there. Anton, Silas, and Edith seem very happy with their choice."

"I get that, mate, but they're making decisions for their kids."

"Don't all parents do that?"

Ron held up a hand. "Look, all I'm saying is that their daughter should learn about our world. Is that so wrong?" He took a final bite of his chips.

"But you do agree it's OK for adults to decide to disappear into the muggle world, right?"

Ron banished his dish back to the counter as they stood up. He shrugged. "Natch. Right strange, maybe, but every gnome has a home."

Harry sighed. "It's too bad that she might never have the chance to experience the wonders of our world. I still remember how awed I was on my first visit to Diagon Alley."

 _Please review!_


	5. The World at Your Fingertip

_Welcome back!_

"Someone out there needs galleons badly enough to rob stores in spite of the dangers of running afoul of protective wards and he, she or they are possibly hiding within the muggle world," Harry summarized to his team on Monday. "We also know there's an underground society of wizards who live amidst the muggles and eschew magic. They need access to the sanitatem corporis potion for a healthy life. We need to know if the cost of the potion could be the motive for the Diagon Alley thefts."

Absentmindedly, Leo ran his fingers across his goatee. "Not all are living so hidden away," he muttered.

Harry stared at him. He had just taken out his wand to reheat his tea but now just held it loosely in his hand, temporarily forgotten. "You know about them?"

Leo sat up straight and cleared his throat. "Well, doesn't everyone? It's not like we talk about them, but we all know about it."

Ron was startled. "We do?"

Leo nodded. "Of course." He summoned a biscuit from the middle of the table as he debated what to say. He looked down in embarrassment. "My own cousin and his family live among the muggles. We used to see him all the time but then our own families grew. As our kids got older they had less and less things in common. It got to the point that they barely understood what they were saying to each other. We don't see them as often anymore."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Would it be possible to meet them? I'd like to learn more about how wizards live in the muggle world."

Leo smiled. "I know they wouldn't mind meeting you. Annmarie and Declan stay in touch with the wizarding world through the Daily Prophet so certainly know who you are." Harry winced. "They'd love to talk with you about what's going on in our world," Leo continued.

"But then why did they leave it?" asked Ron.

"That's their story to tell," responded Leo. "Let me contact them first."

TRTRTRTR

Annmarie and Declan Haworth lived in a quaint Georgian townhouse off of Bedford Square in London. Harry and Ron enjoyed the warm afternoon sun as they walked up the steps. The distinctive blue doorway was topped by a semi-circular window and surrounded by an arch of alternating colors of Coade stone.

The lanky man who answered the door had dark blond hair. He sported blue jeans and a brown polo shirt. He smiled politely at them. "Cousin Leo said you were looking for information about muggles?"

Harry and Ron shook his hand and the two entered the house. "Not about muggles per se. There's been some trouble in Diagon Alley and it's possible the culprits are hiding amidst the muggles. We hope to learn more about the lives of wizards who live away from the magical world."

A tall woman with short, auburn hair joined them. "I thought I heard someone knock. Come on in – I have tea set out in the sitting room," she said graciously.

As they sat down on the plush chairs, Harry looked around the tastefully furnished room. He recognized the thick blue and silver area rug on the floor as coming from China. Abstract works of art framed the fireplace. One wall was lined with bookcases. Among the books he saw a variety of knick-knacks ranging from colorful animals to large shells. A teapot, cups, and a plate of sandwiches sat on a small coffee table in the middle of the circle of chairs. "Thank you for seeing us."

Annmarie poured out four cups of tea. Making sure her guests had the sugar, lemon or milk they desired, she sat back in her chair, wrapping her fingers around her own cup. "Our pleasure. Though we live in the muggle world, we haven't cut off all our ties."

"What caused you to leave our world?" asked Ron.

Declan shook his head. "On the contrary, you should instead ask us what caused us to enter the muggle world. Unlike many, we didn't feel pushed out. We just didn't feel we could fulfill our potential among those who reject technology."

Ron's hand stopped while reaching for a cucumber sandwich. "How could you find more here than in our world?" he asked in bewilderment.

Declan squeezed a lemon slice into his tea. "You have to understand we were Ravenclaws," he began. "It was a good sorting for both of us. Even before Hogwarts we hungered for knowledge. I was valedictorian of my year."

Annmarie looked at him fondly. "I think one of the chairs in the library there is still molded to fit you."

Declan nodded. "I was researching the muggle influence on the development of potions for extra credit when I discovered the internet and the World Wide Web. Even in their infancy, they fascinated me."

Ron felt his head spin. "What's the internet?"

"The knowledge of the world at your fingertips," explained Declan.

Harry and Ron recalled Snape saying the same thing but were still extremely confused.

"Though most often used to send cute cat photos and play games," laughed Annmarie. "Even our son takes it for granted; his school issues tablets to those who can't afford them."

At this Harry felt lost. "Tablets?"

"Very portable computers," replied Declan. He pulled out a rectangular object from his pocket. "I'm still amazed that there's more computing power in my mobile than on the rocket ship that took man to the moon. Of course, muggle kids take it for granted, and only complain when it's slow."

Ron was bemused. "Man's been to the moon?"

The other three looked at him. "Um, yeah," said Harry. "Over a decade before we were born."

"Oh. So what's it like?"

Declan just shook his head. "I hadn't heard of the moon landings either. We discovered the anti-tech world is extremely provincial. We felt liberated when joined the technologists."

Not fully understanding, Ron switched the conversation back to something more familiar. "You mentioned your son. Does he go to Hogwarts?" he inquired.

Annmarie shrugged. "He got a letter, but when we explained to him that he couldn't use a computer there he didn't want to go. You have to understand he's a true computer genius. He's already developed two apps that are making a profit. Would you believe he's already been contacted by a couple of high tech firms, but we've told him he needs to go to school until he's eighteen. We told him about the wonders of Hogwarts, but technology changes too quickly for him to stay on top of things if he's gone nine months of the year."

Harry and Ron didn't know what an app was, but didn't want to sidetrack the conversation. "But what if he changes his mind?" challenged Harry.

"He won't," said Declan with confidence.

Ron thought Annmarie and Declan were cheating their son of his rightful heritage, but didn't respond.

Harry leaned forward. "We've been informed that to have a healthy life you need to take the sanitatem corporis potion. Can you tell us more?"

TRTRTRTR

Though he tried to forget it, the conversation with Declan and Annmarie bothered Ron the rest of the day. His mind raced. Would Hermione, with her never ending quest for knowledge, ever be tempted by technology to go back to the muggle world? Finally he decided he needed advice. After dinner, he told Hermione he had to talk to his mother and floo'd over to the Burrow.

"Ronald! How nice to see you during the week. Everything is all right, isn't it?" Molly bustled over and gave him a hug. "Are you hungry? I have a fresh cake from George and Angelina."

"No cake for me, mum! Both Rose and Hugo are excited to start school – Rose has already started to memorize this year's books. Hugo is confident he'll make the quidditch team again and thinks he has a shot for captain, if not this year then next for sure. Hermione has heard fairly reliable rumors that she's in line for a promotion when Goodbody retires at the end of the year."

"She'll do marvelously, of course. Say, did you hear Louis may have been exposed to Dragon Pox? Bill and Fleur are worried to death."

They exchanged more news as Molly accio'd some refreshing pumpkin juice.

"Arthur is still considering retiring next spring," Molly continued.

Ron let out a small laugh. "I've heard that before. Speaking of Dad, where is he?"

"Out in the shed, tinkering with his muggle toys, of course." Molly smiled fondly. "He just brought home an odd little gadget that supposed to be a watch, but when he brought it in the house it stopped working. He's seeing if he can get it started again. So many of the things he brings home just stop working when he brings them into the house, but he sometimes forgets to drop them off in the shed first."

Ron nodded sagely. "The watch was probably electronic. Hopefully it wasn't broken for good by being exposed to magic." Molly looked at him in surprise. Ron kept his expression grave as long as he could before he had to break into a grin at his mother's expression. "Yeah, it amazing what a person picks up over time."

Molly huffed good-naturedly. "Well, you picked it up faster than Arthur did. We must have been married for twenty years before he discovered that he needed to have a separate area for his new toys."

Ron banished his glass back to the kitchen. "Mum, did you ever resent Dad for spending so much time on his hobby?"

Molly looked sharply at him. "Is that why you came tonight? Is Hermione spending too much time away?"

"No, mum!" Ron shook his head vigorously. "It's just that … we're both super busy and I wouldn't want her to get something else on her plate, but I may have found something she might enjoy."

Molly smiled. "Oh, everyone needs a little hobby but I'm sure she wouldn't let anything come between you."

"Of course not."

Hermione was concerned when Ron was quiet after returning home. It wasn't like him to visit the Burrow during the week. After the children were in bed, she sat next to him on the couch in the family room and summoned a plate of sliced fruit for the two of them and a book for herself. She waited for her husband to begin talking.

Gently stroking their purring spotted kneazle, Ron finally spoke up. "Hermione, you wouldn't ever leave us for the muggle world, would you?"

Hermione was so startled at the question that she dropped the book on her lap. The startled kneazle jumped off the couch onto the coffee table, knocking the now empty plate to the floor, cracking it. Hermione quickly used a reparo to repair it and then banished it back to the kitchen. "Why in Merlin's name would you even ask me such a question? What happened?"

Ron reached out an arm to hug her to his side. "Nothing. Just something silly someone said about recent muggle inventions."

Hermione folded her feet underneath her. "Don't be silly, Ron. My life is here with you and the children." She searched his face as if to read his thoughts and then turned back to her book.

Ron nodded, but held her tightly, his fears not entirely diminished.

TRTRTRTR

 _A short chapter, but this was a logical break point. The rest of the chapters will be longer. Even though this is short, please review it._


	6. War and Peace

_I thought this story would be seven chapters but it looks like it will actually be eight chapters_

Despite Keeva indicating that Virgil Toddington would to meet with them to discuss his buying the sanitatem corporis potion, it had taken Harry several owls before finally he was finally able to pin the wizard down.

"I wonder if there would be some way to teach people to embrace both worlds, like Professor Snape has," Harry mused aloud as he and Ron made their way through Diagon Alley on their way to Toddington's flat. "For example, if people are discouraging their kids from attending Hogwarts because they don't want them to fall behind in muggle education, then perhaps we should offer a way for them to learn about magic in the evenings or on the weekends while going to a muggle school during the day. That way, they can learn about both."

Ron scoffed. "Why bother?" He dodged two children walking with their crup. "There can't be that many kids being held back by their parents. We just happened to run into a few," he argued. "Next you'll be saying that wizarding parents should be required to teach their kids about the muggle world so their children can make a choice. There's no need for that - we already teach muggle studies at Hogwarts."

"Not very effectively from what we've learned from our interviews," Harry replied as he stepped around a stand selling quidditch souvenirs for the upcoming big game. "The curriculum hasn't stayed abreast of their advancing technology. I asked James and Albus last night about mobile devices and this … intraweb? Anyway, James didn't know much, but Albus said he'd overheard muggle-born classmates talking about such things among themselves. He said one was even seriously thinking about leaving Hogwarts because she missed hers and couldn't use it there. She was unhappy to be losing her muggle friends. By remaining ignorant, we've made wizards who want to be able to use technology feel that they have to abandon our world."

"What's wrong with what we have, Harry?" Ron asked plaintively. "We fought a war to keep our way of life. Why do you want to change it?"

"I don't want to change it, Ron, I just think that the people we spoke to have some good points. I think we could incorporate some of the modern world, or at least learn from it, without any detriment to our society." The conversation was halted by their arrival at Potash Cauldrons. Virgil had written he lived in a flat above the store. They made their way up the stairs and knocked.

The door was opened by a reedy man with a mustache. He looked at them as though he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Virgil Toddington? I'm Auror Weasley and this is Auror Potter. You should be expecting us," Ron said with a friendly grin.

The man gaped at them for another moment. "I didn't believe you'd be coming yourselves. I thought someone was pulling a prank. I'm – I'm just … It's an honor to meet the two of you! Come in, come in!"

Harry and Ron shook his hand. "We just wanted to ask you a few questions about the sanitatem corporis potion that you've been buying," Harry explained.

Entering directly into the cramped living room, Harry and Ron saw a small wooden table with four chairs. At the other end of the room, numerous bottles were neatly lined up in rows on a spindly sideboard. Unmatched end tables piled with books and parchments were on either side of a fireplace. Through open doors they could see a cozy kitchen to the right. In the room beyond the bathroom they could see a small bedroom. Virgil pointed to two of the chairs. "Of course, of course! What do you need to know?"

Ron gave what was supposed to be a calming smile. "I guess we're a bit confused. Do you take the potion yourself?"

Virgil scowled. "No, my sister needs it." He didn't elaborate.

"She's left the wizarding world?" Harry asked to clarify.

Virgil stared at them. "Yes. Though she's always resented the fact that she had to do so."

Ron leaned forward. "But why would she have to?"

Virgil frowned. "That's her business to tell or not as she chooses."

"In any case," Harry interjected, "we're trying to learn more about the wizards who use the sanitatem corporis potion."

Virgil shrugged. "I can't help you there. I just buy it and give it to my sister. It's legal to do so, even if I need to go to Knockturn Alley to get it because the apothecaries on Diagon Alley are too proud to sell it."

Ron looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't they want to sell it?"

Virgil sneered. "Because they say right-minded folks would never need it, that it's only needed by those too weak to survive in our world. Or by criminals trying to avoid properly-bred folks. They think selling it would encourage our young to abandon us. Well, I say if your young would abandon you so quickly then you're doing something wrong."

Harry quickly spoke up before Ron could say anything. "It's good of you to help your sister out."

Virgil's face relaxed. "She's my younger sister. I'd already graduated from Hogwarts and was overseas when the second Death Eater War started. Maizie should have left the school with the other evacuees, but she wanted to fight." He looked directly at Harry. "Until it got too dangerous, she'd write to me about how she admired you." Virgil shook his head and his expression hardened. "We used to be a close family. War broke us apart. If my sister needs help, I'll do what I can. If you want to know anything else, you'll have to talk to her directly. I know she'd be thrilled to meet you."

"Maizie Toddington?" Harry set down his cup as he tried to remember the name. "Wasn't she … um, a Hufflepuff?"

Virgil nodded.

"I remember little Maizie. She was in the choir if I'm not mistaken," Ron interjected. Virgil nodded again.

Harry returned to his list of questions. "How much does the sanitatem corporis cost, Mr. Toddington?"

Virgil snorted. "What the market will bear and, if you ask me, way too much for those that depend on it. St. Mungo's certainly doesn't dispense it and it would be a quarter of the price if it were sold on Diagon Alley." He paused. "Don't let Maizie know how expensive it is. I don't want to worry her."

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "We were told Professor Snape offers it for a reasonable price."

Virgil glared at Harry. "You would have me make a deal with a Death Eater?"

"Professor Snape was on our side!" responded Harry in anger.

"So he says. I doubt He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named marked anyone without some sort of stain on his soul. I read about the Death Eaters. I know what they did. Snape may have seen which way the winds were blowing and joined the winning side at some point, but he never denied he started off as a true Death Eater. You can't trust a traitor. Who's to say he fully turned, or that he'll not turn again?"

Harry started to respond but Ron kicked his foot as if by accident.

"Thanks, Mr. Toddington," Ron said, standing up. "If we could just get your sister's contact information we'd appreciate it."

As they returned to Diagon Alley, Harry turned to Ron. "Why did you stop me?" he asked, furiously.

"Look, mate, you weren't going to be able to change his mind. I know you want everyone to think as highly of Snape as you do, but it's not going to happen. You have to admit he had a point."

Harry gave Ron a glare that would have made Snape proud but didn't answer.

TRTRTRTR

Maizie Toddington lived in a small flat located in the Blackfen area of London. Her brother had obviously told her to expect Harry and Ron for she opened the door at the first knock. She resembled her brother though with a stocky build and vibrant blue eyes. She was obviously excited to see them, almost yanking them inside.

The flat, though small, was meticulously neat. Three watercolors were hung on one wall. Pretty curtains framed two windows overlooking the street. A wooden dining table with four chairs was at one end of the room; at the other, a well-worn sofa and overstuffed chair were covered in matching fabric.

Maizie had barely put out the tea when she began to ask question after question about what was going on in wizarding politics, which Harry answered, and in the quidditch league, which Ron answered. After a while, Ron could no longer restrain himself. "Blimey, Maizie, why don't you just come back to where you belong?"

Maizie reacted as if someone had used a freezing charm on her. She stopped laughing and swallowed. "Virgil didn't tell you?"

Harry and Ron gave each other puzzled looks. "Tell us what?"

"Excuse me a moment." When Maizie returned a few minutes later, she held herself proudly though her eyes were red from crying. Harry and Ron barely noticed, however; their attention was drawn to her legs, and not because she was now wearing shorts. Only one of the legs was made of flesh and blood; the other was made of silver and black metal which disappeared under the hem of her shorts. She made her way back to the chair she had been sitting in.

"I was cursed in the Battle of Hogwarts," Maizie explained. "Got an Order of Merlin for my actions, and an offer of a wooden leg. I didn't realize I had any alternative until one day I was in the muggle part of the city and was knocked to the ground. Circe was watching out for me, because the person who did so worked for a company manufacturing prosthetic limbs. This model uses advanced sensors and lightweight motors. The only trouble is that if I use any magic it freezes up."

Harry and Ron were silent for a moment. "So you gave up magic just for a leg?" Ron finally asked. Harry elbowed him, but Maizie just shrugged.

"Have you ever heard someone say they'd give their right arm for something? Well, I discovered it's easier to say that when you aren't faced with the results. Given a choice of hobbling around on a wooden leg attached at the thigh or being able to walk and even run normally, which would you choose? Do you remember the year Mad-Eye Moody was an instructor? I decided that I'd rather have two functional legs than be able to change a pincushion into a hedgehog."

Harry sat back and sighed. The battle still took place regularly in his nightmares and he saw people with curse marks on a regular basis, but he had thought that the injured had all been taken care of by healers. He hadn't known any to go to muggle doctors for help.

Ron cleared his throat. "So your brother gets the potion for you?"

"Well, it's not like I can visit Diagon Alley. The imbued magic would have me fall flat on my face with the first step," Maizie replied bitterly.

Ron took one of the last cookies on the tray. "How often do you need to take the potion?"

Maizie shrugged. "From what I understand I have it worse than others because my new leg is almost part of me. I can't even cast small, innocuous spells without it causing it to malfunction, which means expensive repairs. So I need the potion at least monthly." She tapped her artificial leg. "My brother is wonderful. I hated going to him for help, but muggle prosthesis aren't cheap, and even selling my Order of Merlin only brought in seven hundred galleons."

"You sold your medal?" asked Harry quietly. He had tossed his in a drawer and forgotten about it, but had never even imagined selling it.

"That and just about everything else." She gave a grim laugh. "Since we had never been part of the muggle world before, I didn't have muggle insurance so the company expected payment up front. My brother urged me to get a model that gave me the best mobility. And the cost didn't stop there. It needs periodic maintenance and has to be replaced when it wears out."

Ron swallowed and looked uncomfortable

The old, familiar sense of guilt welled up inside Harry. How could he not know that one of the people who had fought for him had ended up in such straights? And that was just the muggle expense. She also needed the sanitatem corporis potion on a regular basis, and Virgil did not pay the discounted price offered by Snape. He wondered how many others were like Maizie. He further pondered which choice he would have made – to live in the wizarding world with limited mobility or to live in the muggle world without magic.

"I had no idea," Harry said quietly.

Though she didn't appear mollified, Maizie took a deep breath and visibly collected herself. "I don't blame you personally, mind you. I would do it all again. I just wish people like me were remembered too."

Harry took a deep breath. "You deserve everyone's gratitude. Now that I'm aware that some of our veterans were ignored, I'll do what I can to make things better for people like you. I'll personally haunt St. Mungo's until they stock the sanitatem corporis potion. They should be able to sell it for a tenth the price of dealers in Knockturn Alley."

"Knockturn Alley?" Maizie gasped. "It must be costing Virgil a fortune!"

Harry mentally kicked himself for accidently revealing the expense that Virgil had asked him to keep secret from his sister.

Shaking her head, Maizie took a deep breath. "I didn't realize what a burden I've been on my brother. Anything you can do to help us out would make you a hero twice over in my eyes, Harry."

"I wouldn't be doing it for that, Maizie." Harry sighed. "I was the one who killed Voldemort, but without people like you to fight his minions and allies, Hogwarts would have been overrun and then who knows what would have happened. Your participation in the battle was critical. I just feel terrible that it's taken me this long to realize heroes like you were forgotten in the joy at the end of the war."

Maizie's eyes began to water and the aurors looked away when she took out a handkerchief.

As Harry and Ron left, Ron snickered. "Snape's not going to be happy when you take away his business."

Shrugging, Harry looked at Ron slyly. "Who do you thing I'm going to recommend to St. Mungo's to make the potion?"

TRTRTRTR

Upon entering the Leaky Cauldron, they unconsciously breathed deeply, and relaxed at no longer having to watch their every move to make sure they did not inadvertently use magic. "I never realized that so many wizards had turned their backs on magic," mused Ron.

Harry looked thoughtful. "I wonder if the number has grown recently," he wondered, "now that the muggle world has carrots."

"What do you mean, mate?" asked Ron bemused. "Didn't they always have carrots? I didn't think they were magical."

Harry huffed. "Nah, I just meant that some wizards are drawn to their world, not just forced out of ours."

"I still don't think it's that common. Hey, speaking of carrots, want to get a bite to eat?"

 _Please review! Any thoughts as to other reasons wizards would choose to live as a muggle?_


	7. Follow the Money

_Nope, still not JK._

When the Theft Ring Task Force met again later that week, the faces around the table were glum. The stakeouts still hadn't seen any new thefts and no one had spent a surprising amount of galleons. Harry looked around at his team. "Suggestions?" he asked dispiritedly.

Ron was eyeing Keeva. The witch had transfigured her coffee cup into a ball and was idly spinning her saucer around it. The spinning saucer was catching the light periodically. The witch stopped the saucer and began to spin it in the other direction. "How about if we go back to following the money?" he asked slowly.

Finnick shook his head. "I've been up and down Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, and Hogsmeade until I've had to do a reparo on my boots. No one's been spending unusual sums of money."

Ron rubbed his chin. "Maybe we're approaching it wrong. We're looking for people who have spent money. How about looking for how people are getting it?"

Harry leaned forward. "What do you mean, Ron?"

"I was just thinking back to what Maizie said. It didn't look like either she or her brother is earning much, yet somehow he comes up with the money to buy the potion at full price."

Drumming his fingers, Harry looked thoughtful. "They're probably spending all their money on the potion. Ledbury is married to a muggle nurse – I think they make good money - and he buys the discounted potion through Snape. The Higgs and the Haworths, though – how do they pay for the potion, even at a discounted price?"

Sorcha grabbed her quill and hurriedly did some calculations. "If we can find out who their other contacts in the wizarding world are, we might be able to find someone in the theft ring."

Harry looked at the others to see if there were any other ideas. When no one else spoke up, he sighed. "I'll ask for permission to conduct surveillance. No one really wanted to hang around the office, did they?"

"At least it will be better than staking out a building," muttered Leo.

TRTRTRTR

Two weeks later, the task force reassembled. Harry eyed the sheaf of parchments hovering in front of him in distaste. "To summarize the surveillance results, no one's been acting suspiciously. No one seems to be living above their means. Contacts with other wizards and witches seem to be purely innocent, based on friendship."

"No new thefts have been reported, though that doesn't mean anything since the shopkeepers are secretive," Finnick added.

Harry banished the parchments back to his office. "Time for another round of visits. We need to obtain more information. Where to first?"

"The Ledburys," said Ron decisively.

Matilda looked over at him. "Any particular reason?"

Ron shrugged. "He said he doesn't know who hit him, but I still find it suspicious he didn't go to St. Mungo's to get healed. Why did he avoid it? Were the aurors after him? After all, he's Slytherin."

Harry looked around the table feeling uncomfortable. He knew there were Slytherin aurors, but he didn't know how many and had never considered any for the task force simply because he didn't know them well. He made a mental note to seek some out to become better acquainted with them. "I think Silas Higgs was a Slytherin too," he said mildly.

"Yeah, but Edith was a Gryffindor. If he were one of the sneaky ones he wouldn't have married her."

"Anton is married to a muggle," Leo reminded the group.

"Though either could have married who they did to distance themselves from their past," Keeva pointed out.

Harry shook his head. Despite the many years since the war had ended, distrust of Slytherins remained. He wondered how Albus was coping. "Remind me to arrange for some training on stereotypes. In the meantime, it's as good a place as any to start."

TRTRTRTR

No one answered the door of the Ledbury house when Harry and Ron knocked on it that afternoon but they could hear a dog barking. "Think they got cold feet and fled before we could arrest them?" Ron whispered as they looked for a place to disillusion themselves while they waited.

"Nah. Chances are they're both at work." Harry conjured two comfortable chairs and cast a muffliato.

Ron looked startled. "You really think Anton Ledbury works in the muggle world?"

Harry shrugged. "Why not?" He idly made some leaves dance a version of the waltz. "What do you think about the Canons' new beater?"

A short while later their desultory talk was halted when a car pulled into the driveway. Harry noted that it looked new. Anton came out of the driver's seat while two young girls Harry recognized from the photo in the house piled out of the back giggling and raced to the front door. Ron could tell the older one deliberately let her sister win.

The two waited until the family was in the house and then Harry banished the chairs. "Ready?" he asked Ron.

The older girl opened the door at their knock. "Dad!" she called back into the house. "I think the doorbell is broken again. We have some visitors who had to knock."

Harry mentally gave himself a kick. The wizarding world didn't use doorbells so it hadn't occurred to him to look for one. Anton came into the foyer with a towel in his hand. He did not look happy to see them. "It's all right, Sarah," he told his daughter. "I'll test it out. How much homework do you have?"

"Not much. Can I go over to Amelia's?"

Her dad nodded. "Be sure to latch the back gate and come back before the streetlights come on." The girl raced out of the room.

"I didn't expect to see you again," Anton said coldly. "I wouldn't have told Severus he could give you my name if I thought you were going to begin harassing me. I noticed during the week that someone was following me."

Ron held up his hands. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ledbury. We won't keep you long. We forgot to ask you something the last time we were here and we thought you wouldn't mind answering a few additional questions."

"Make it quick. Naomi will be home from work late tonight so I need to get dinner ready."

Harry noticed he didn't invite them in. "Of course. Have you heard of any Rejectionists complaining about the costs the sanitatem corporis potion?"

Anton snorted. "I asked for that when I told you to make it quick. No subtlety at all. Easy answer though, to both your questions."

Ron looked sharply at him. "Both?"

"Aye. The first question you have is whether I'm in touch with other so-called Rejectionists. The answer is no. My friends were Slytherins and as you can imagine the life-style I've chosen isn't a popular one with them. Your second question is how can I afford it. The answer is Naomi and I both have nicely paying jobs. She's the Head Nurse at the prestigious Princess Grace Hospital. I'm an office manager for a furniture company. They specialize in identifying authentic Edwardian and Victorian furniture and making reproductions. I'm known to have an instinctive feel for such things – easy for someone who grew up in a home where that was considered modern."

Harry saw that they would not get anything else from him. "Thank you, Mr. Ledbury. I've already called off the surveillance and we won't bother you again." He paused. "If you are interested in getting together with other wizards living completely in the muggle world, you should mention that to Severus. I've learned not to be surprised at who does so. You're not the only Slytherin."

Anton looked startled. "I'd not thought to ask him. Every once in awhile … well, good day to you then," he finished in a more friendly tone.

TRTRTRTR

Later that muggy evening found Harry and Ron outside the Higgs' cottage. There was no sign of the bicycle or skateboard. Edith was acting as goalie as a thin girl with black hair advanced with a ball, occasionally kicking it towards the net. When Edith caught sight of Harry and Ron she froze, allowing the girl to score. She shook her head and turned to her daughter. "Nicely done, honey! Why don't you go inside for a snack." She watched the girl until she was in the house and then turned to the aurors. "I'm surprised to see you again. Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, Edith," reassured Ron. "We've just run out of leads. We were hoping you'd be able to connect us with some other Rejectionists who might be able to help us."

Edith eyed them up and down. "For your information, if you're looking for help you'd do well not to insult the person you're addressing," she responded.

"Sorry?" Harry was startled.

"To call those of us who live in the muggle world Rejectionists is insulting. It implies we didn't know what we were doing when we moved to the muggle world." She glared at them. "As we told you last time you visited, neither our families nor our friends were happy with our decision to marry - they are the ones the rejected us. Because of that, we entered the muggle world and learned about their technology. We call ourselves Techies, and we're proud of it. Our only connection to our old lives is Professor Snape, the one person who never looked at us as though we were crazy."

Privately Ron thought about pointing out that the potions master had fooled he-who-was-most-thoroughly-dead for years, not to mention the rest of the wizarding world, but he bit his tongue.

"How do you find the galleons to pay for the sanitatem corporis potion?" Harry was asking.

Edith rolled her eyes. "We don't need galleons. Professor Snape takes pounds. If you're asking how we get the pounds, we earn them. We both have decent muggle jobs – I'll be happy to show you our tax returns if you don't believe me.

"What sort of jobs can you do without muggle degrees?" asked Harry in curiosity.

"I have a certificate to teach English as a second language – one of my neighbors helped me earn it when she saw I was having trouble finding a job. Silas sells plumbing supplies." Her eyes flashed. "You may look down on us, but we make an honest living, Mr. Potter," she added, with a slight note of defiance in her voice "and other than the sanitatem corporis potion our expenses are few. Now, did you need anything else?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Thank you for talking with us, Edith," said Ron. "We didn't mean to be a bother."

Edith walked with them back down the driveway. "I apologize for being short with you," she said, sounding mollified. "It's just that you bring up old, and not necessarily good, memories."

TRTRTRTR

Arriving at the Haworth house the following afternoon prepared to wait, they were surprised to find someone at home. Declan answered the door in jeans and a blue t-shirt. "Back again? I thought I answered all your questions," he greeted them as he came in.

"We're glad we were able to catch you," Ron told him. "We got lucky that you're home from work early today."

Declan looked amused. "Actually I generally work from home. My home office in central London is a bit of an effort to get to."

"Who do you work for?" asked Harry.

"A firm called, we think very appropriately, Solutions. We provide consulting services to companies who need to upgrade their network infrastructure and security."

Looking at each other, Harry and Ron silently agreed that neither had any idea what Declan had just said but agreed it was a question for another time. Declan watched them in amusement as if he could tell what they were thinking. A short, thin boy with auburn hair came into the foyer, nodded at the group, and headed to the stairs.

Ron turned back to Declan. "Does your wife work with you?"

Declan shook his head. "No, she works for a company called Amazon. Perhaps you've heard of them?" He snorted at their expressions. "Why am I not surprised. Ask Severus. Better yet, ask any muggle-borns entering Hogwarts. It's a technology giant – it reinvented the way the world's commerce is conducted."

The boy had stopped on the third stair up. "You're kidding, right? Amazon?"

"Umm, it's in South America," Harry stated. The boy rolled his eyes.

"Talon," Declan motioned to him. "Come meet some of my associates. This is Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They're policemen in the anti-tech world."

"Nice to meet you." Talon looked at them in curiosity. "So you're wizards?"

Ron nodded.

"That's why you don't know anything," Talon muttered, but loud enough for the others to hear.

"Talon," his father scolded.

Ron was affronted. "From what I hear, you're a wizard too." Trying to come up with a way to ignite the boy's interest in magic, he asked, "Do you want me to show you some spells? I know some really fun ones."

Talon shook his head vigorously. "Maybe some other time. We've got too many electronics in this house for you to do any magic. Speaking of which, Dad, I need to get started on some coding I promised to work on."

"Pizza will be delivered at six." Talon nodded as he headed up the stairs.

Harry looked after him. "He didn't seem interested at all in our world."

Declan shrugged. "He's got a busy life. So do I … was there anything else in particular you stopped by to ask?"

Harry turned his attention back to Declan. "There is, actually. We've run into a dead end. By any chance could you put us in touch with any other Rejec – I mean, individuals like you?"

Declan looked stony. "Are you so convinced it's a Technologist who's your suspect?"

Ron shrugged. "It's someone familiar with both the wizarding and muggle worlds."

"It's not any of us, then. We all left your culture behind when we learned wizards had to reject technology if they wanted to take advantage of the wonders of the modern world. As far as I'm concerned, we're far too busy embracing the future to dwell on the past."

* * *

 _One chapter to go. Please review!_


	8. Present and Future

_Last chapter!_

Harry and Ron were exhausted by the time they returned to Diagon Alley. "I'm at the point that if we don't get a solid lead soon I think we should put this whole case on hold until there's another theft," Harry complained. He drew his wand and cast a tempus. "I know it's late, but to wrap things up for now are you up for one more stop before heading home?"

Ron nodded. "We may have scared off the thieves just by our questions. They realized we were close to catching them and closed up shop. I bet we won't hear any more reports."

Harry nudged his friend. "You won't, anyway. Say, have you decided where you want to have your farewell luncheon next month?"

Ron smiled. "I was thinking about The Quidditch Room. It opened a couple of months ago. It will be cozy with our group, but can fit us in. Have you and Ginny been there yet? You'll love it!"

Harry led the way up the stairs over Potash Cauldrons.

Virgil Toddington opened the door. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley! Good to see you again. Come in." He gestured for them to have a seat and summoned a bottle of firewhisky from the spindly sideboard along with three tumblers. After pouring a generous portion into each, he raised his glass. "My sister said she enjoyed your visit with her. She said you were actually going to work with St. Mungo's to have them sell the sanitatem corporis potion at an affordable price. That would truly be great to us law-abiding citizens who pay those hags in Knockturn Alley what they can squeeze out of us. Thank you!"

The three sat in silence for a minute enjoying the drinks.

Leaning back, Harry rubbed his chin. "I just wish I'd known about the problem much earlier. I didn't realize our veterans weren't being taken care of."

Virgil snorted and poured each another glass. "Our parents died after having to sell their house to help my sister with her expenses. No one cared about her plight."

"That wasn't right." Ron shook his head vigorously. "No one should have been forgotten."

"No one," Virgil agreed. "Not even those who left our world as a result." He finished his glass. Raising the bottle, he silently asked if they wanted another refill. Harry and Ron nodded and held out their glasses.

Knowing better than to bring up Snape's name, Harry took another small sip before he spoke up. "I've made an appointment to meet with the St. Mungo's Board of Directors next week. If all goes as I hope, people like you and your sister will see the results very soon."

Virgil finished his glass. "It will make a world of difference." He paused, looking out the window. "You know what would really make it right though?" He turned back to face the auror as Harry cocked his head questioningly. "It should be free to people like my sister." He poured himself another glass. "Our heroes should be honored, not forgotten." Harry's guilt began to rise again. How many others were no longer remembered except by a few loved ones?

Encouraged by Harry's silent nod of acknowledgment, Virgil pounded the table. "Yes, remembered! My sister already paid for our freedom from those Death Eaters. Those so-called righteous wizards and witches should pay their share now. They ought to have been required all along to pay for the care of those who fought so that they can live their happy wizarding lives. Did they?" In his aggravation, he got up to pace around the room. "No, they just went on with their contented lives and thumbed their noses at people like my sister just because she wanted to walk around comfortably like anyone else without a wooded leg."

As the unsteady Virgil passed by the sideboard, he bumped into it. The bottles started to tip over. Ron instinctively drew his wand to keep them from rolling off the table. A glass previously tucked behind them caught Ron's attention. He stood up to examine it more closely. It had various models of brooms flying in circles. With his back towards the still pacing Virgil, he cleared his throat to catch Harry's attention. When Harry saw what Ron was looking at, he remembered the disappearing glass on the counter next to the cash register in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He nodded and got ready to pull out his own wand.

Stopping again to stare out the window, Virgil shook his head, "Sorry. As you can tell, I get emotional about the subject."

"Mr. Toddington," Ron said, "You wouldn't happen to know of any problems shopkeepers in the area are experiencing, do you?"

Virgil paled. "None. I've heard nothing about any thefts."

Harry casually flicked his wand into his hand. "That's an interesting glass you have on the sideboard. Unique, even. And I don't recall saying anything about any thefts. I just mentioned some problems."

Virgil stared at the wand, entranced. "I got the glass … You must have … I mean I heard rumors but nothing more … I've nothing to do with …." he blustered.

"Then you wouldn't mind us looking around, would you?" asked Ron.

"No! I mean yes I mind you poking around. You've no right …"

"Not a problem, Mr. Toddington," Harry responded. "But if you'll just slowly pass us your wand using two fingers and come with us, I'm sure we can resolve things in no time."

TRTRTRTR

That evening, Ron gave Hermione the details of the case. "So then we took him in to headquarters. We performed a priori incantatem on his wand. What do you think we found?"

"Compulsion charms and obliviates?" guessed Hermione thoughtfully.

"You got it in one! He was arrested immediately. Swore his sister didn't know anything, that he acted on his own. With his knowledge of both the wizarding and muggle worlds, he was able to fool us all into looking for a ring of dark wizards instead of one bitter man. Living in Diagon Alley he could case out stores with ease and strike when he knew they would be empty. Spending so much time with his sister taught him to blend in with the muggles."

"Do you blame him for being bitter?" asked Hermione rhetorically. "Who notified his sister?" she added thoughtfully.

Ron looked stumped. "I'm not sure who has that task."

His wife sighed. "You need to find out, Ron. The poor woman will start to wonder what happened to her brother and from what you said she has no way of contacting anyone to find out."

Ron squeezed her hand. "One of the many reasons I love you is because you worry about such things. I'll do it in the morning. And you'll be happy to know Harry is meeting with the St. Mungo's Board of Directors next week about stocking the sanitatem corporis potion and selling it at Snape's reasonable price." He gazed at the fireplace for several minutes. "Hermione," he finally asked hesitantly, "Are you sure you don't ever miss the muggle world?"

She shook her head. "I'm a witch. I can't imagine not living as one." She paused. "Since you brought it up last time, I have been wondering about the advances going on in the muggle world. If what the Haworths said was true, we could be missing a great deal. If Professor Snape can straddle both worlds, why can't others? Maybe not everyone, but if just a handful…" she fell silent.

Ron felt a chill as he foresaw the wizarding world changing. "But don't you like the way things are?"

"Of course, Ron! But that's not to say things are perfect. Don't you want Rose and Hugo to be whatever they want to be? What if that requires them to have more knowledge of the outside world than they can currently get at Hogwarts?"

"What aren't they learning at Hogwarts that they can't learn on their own?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "When I was a little girl, I wanted to be an astronaut or a nuclear physicist." She opened her eyes and laughed. "I didn't even know what a nuclear physicist did, but it sounded like something that only someone really smart could be and I wanted to prove I was smarter than anyone else. I'm proud of the work I do advocating for the rights of other magical beings, but now that you've told me how the muggle world has progressed, I wonder if I couldn't use its technology to help me in my job."

"But you won't stop being a witch, will you?" asked Ron desperately.

"Of course not, love! I just want to be like Professor Snape, able to go back and forth between the wizarding and muggle worlds."

"As long as you keep the two separate," Ron grumbled. "And keep time for me."

Hermione squeezed his hand one last time before getting up. "I think I'm going to talk to Professor Snape tomorrow and see how he does it. It would be a good opportunity to see Fionna again too."

"Let me know what time you're going," Ron sighed. "Harry needs to talk to him about making additional sanitatem corporis potion. Harry's willing to pay for the expense until it becomes available through St. Mungo's. He's still trying to determine how many of our veterans like Maizie need the potion."

TRTRTRTR

Late the following afternoon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione met up with each other outside Snape's house. The professor was waiting for them as they walked up the sidewalk.

"Good to see you again, Professor," said Hermione with a smile. "Is my god-daughter here?"

"No, Nuala took her and the boys to the park but I expect them back shortly. What did you learn from speaking with my clients?" he asked as he motioned them into the kitchen.

Harry took off the muggle jacket he was wearing before sitting down. "We didn't realize there were so many wizards living in the muggle world."

Snape snorted. "Perhaps the problem lies in the last couple of words you used."

Bewildered, Harry thought back to what he said. "Um…, muggle world?"

Snape shook his head. "If you think we live in separate worlds, then in your eyes a wizard who wishes to use muggle conveniences must completely leave the magical society."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "But you yourself are an example of a person who is comfortable in both. It can be done. Maybe not always, and maybe some won't want to live in both. But perhaps if I could have restored my parents' memories, I would have kept my ties with old muggle friends. If Harry's family had treated him better, he would have stayed in touch with them."

Snape nodded. "Our cultures are different, but not incompatible. In the past, keeping separate was to the benefit of wizards. Magic enabled us to do things muggles could not dream of and created much misunderstanding. However, in the past two decades or so, I would suggest that the advance in muggle technology has resulted in them at least equaling or even surpassing some of our abilities. If wizards are not to be left behind, we need greater interaction with the muggles."

"It sounds like you've given this a great deal of thought," Hermione commented, looking inquisitive.

"I have indeed." Snape leaned forward with an intent look. "I believe Hogwarts must update its curriculum to teach two things. First, we need to educate the students on the benefits of using modern technology. Second, they need to learn strategies on how and when to avoid using magic when around tools that require the use of electricity. Currently, they are given only vague admonishments not to do so. Students leave Hogwarts reaching for their wand in almost every circumstance. Because of that, even those who at first desire to retain use of basic technology such as cell phones break them repeatedly until they throw up their hands and say they never wanted one anyway. With the right motivation, discipline can be learned so that those who wish to retain the benefits of living in the technological culture can do so. Knowing how and when to limit or avoid using magic altogether when appropriate, and not being condemned for their choice, some graduates may embrace both cultures, thus enriching ours."

"But we don't need outside help!" Ron sputtered.

"Don't we?" Snape raised an eyebrow. He paused, and looked around the kitchen. "Do we truly understand magic, or do we flick our wand like a muggle flips a switch and not understand how the light comes on? If we don't understand how it works, how do we know its limitations? Muggles are still learning the implications of fast paced advances in technology. If wizards refuse to admit it's even happening, one day we will wake up and find we've become quaint relics."

"You're saying magic can be replaced by technology?" Ron looked aghast.

"No. At least not yet," replied Snape. "I know of no replacement for instantaneous apparition, for example, however uncomfortable and dangerous for the less skilled though it is. Technology can't transfigure the robes you were wearing to the clothes you have on now. But muggles can accomplish most of the same things we can, though it might take them longer. And they can do things we can't dream of."

Hermione pushed some loose strands of hair behind her ears. "I remember evenings with my mother blow-drying my hair and brushing it afterwards. On Rose, I just use a drying charm." She bit her lip. "I have to admit I'd love to explore the intraweb Ron mentioned. To have all that knowledge at hand …"

Snape snorted. "I think you mean internet. I use it extensively to conduct research."

"So you use muggle knowledge to help create potions for wizards?" asked Ron slowly, "While using wizarding knowledge to solve a Rejectionist problem?"

The potions master nodded. "Five points to Gryffindor. However, ten points deducted for using a pejorative description."

"I deserve that," Ron sighed. "This is new to me. It was a slip of the tongue."

Snape looked at the three of them. "If we as wizards don't adapt to the modern world, we will find more and more of our young people choosing to ignore our culture. Minerva has told me the percentage of muggleborns accepting admission to Hogwarts has declined. I suspect our refusal to look at ways to allow students to keep their feet in both cultures is the cause."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "You told Harry and Ron that few wizards have the ability to straddle both wo – cultures."

Snape smirked. "As things are now – yes. But if we educate our young properly, they could. Stephen, for example, has learned to control his magic enough to be taken as a muggle, and is as comfortable in Diagon Alley as on Oxford Street. Patrick is already learning that he must behave differently in different locations. It's not that different than muggle children learning that what is acceptable at home is not in a place of worship."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Working this case has opened my eyes and I agree with your observations. But we'll have our work cut out for us to convince the Ministry and Hogwarts."

"Hmm." Looking determined, Hermione started to transfigure a handkerchief she found in her pocket into parchment. She stopped when she noticed the sharp look Snape gave her. The potions master rolled his eyes and walked over to her, carrying a pen and paper. She took it sheepishly.

"But, but …" Ron sputtered.

Hermione glared at him. "Don't you think Rose and Hugo should have the freedom to choose how much technology they want to embrace? Do you want their generation to refer to us as being the real Rejectionists?"

The chatter of excited children drifted into the room from down the hall. Snape glanced up as Stephen and Patrick burst into the kitchen.

"Children like these, comfortable in both cultures, are our future," Snape said with pride as walked over to help them wash their hands.

"Professor," Hermione replied, her mind beginning to fill with possibilities, "I agree. This could be the beginning of a new day in wizarding society."

* * *

 _I dedicate this story to my beloved husband whose key editing and critical suggestions have contributed to making this a richer story. Please review and make us both happy!_


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